Learning Curve
by squeekness
Summary: Gambit learns more about Aiden's past and about some of his own past as well. Part ten of the Game.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Gambit learns more about Aiden's past and about some of his own past as well. Part ten of the Game.

Rated M for profanity, violence and some sexual content.

Disclaimer : I do not own the X-men or any of their associated villains, but the Siskans, the Dognan, Jael and the Outkasts are mine. Please do not use them without my permission. Thanks. :)

Notes :Art has been posted for Turbulence on my website if anyone cares to look at it.

-----------------------------

(One)

"_So why are you telling me these things, Dreamer? I don't like this story," you say. "Why does David have to die?"_

_I would dearly love the answer to that last question myself, but it's one that has so far eluded me. Many times I saw David die in my visions and just as many times I tried to come up with some sort of plan to save him. No matter what I tried, no matter how clever my plans, they all failed, each and every one. Every vision ended the same way -- I was always struck down and "corrected." _

_It began to sink in that I was not meant to save him after all._

_That's the hardest thing to live with. I was being shown something that would most certainly happen, something more horrible than I could possibly imagine, and yet at the same time was being told not to act. To just let it go. I can assure you I didn't take it well. I am stubborn, I am vocal with my pain. I became sullen and angry, so much so that even Babette struggled to tolerate my bizarre behavior. _

_What was I to do? I couldn't tell Babette what was to happen. I was shown that informing her of this impending disaster was to lead to something far worse -- the destruction of this world. The needs of the many would just have to take precedence over my own and that of my sister. _

_This is not the first time this has happened to me, me being forced to accept a path that rubs against every grain of my being. Even now, I still feel that I betrayed my precious David, my sister, and my former Master. Nothing I can do will ever make up for my failing. It's a mistake I do not wish to repeat and I fear what I may become if I am ever forced to have to choose again. Would I sacrifice the lives of all others just to protect the one I love most? Would I doom a world in order to heed my own heart? _

_I hope I never have to find out, but I have a feeling that very soon, this same thing will be asked of me. I cannot be certain of how I will respond._

-----------------------------

Remy sat at his kitchen table looking over at his Siskan in a mixture of dismay and anger. Kimble was being a pain in the ass.

The pilot was slumped in a chair across from him, poking a lump of food from his child's size portion around on his plate. It had become a new ritual for Kimble to come over for dinner here during his evening furlough. The plan had been to use this time as father and daughter time, but Kimble wasn't exactly cooperating. Remy knew the reason -- Kimble was convinced that Angel no longer belonged to him and once that idea had taken root, it was impossible to dig it out.

Well, Angel hadn't exactly helped. It was an unintentional thing she'd done, but she was only a child and not really to blame.

It had happened on Monday, two days after Aiden's arrest. The Dreamer was languishing in a cell and Kimble was still being held in the Lab. Not much had changed, but Remy had gotten Kimble a little more motivated and had pushed the Siskan to go down to the school during his morning furlough. Kimble had gone and Gambit had tailed him, sight unseen, keeping watch. Kimble's recent slump had made him more cautious, he was keeping a close eye on the Siskan, watching for breakage.

Kimble made it down to the school, warm from a half hour's sun, and feeling a little better. He paused outside of Angel's classroom, he was here a bit early and it would be a few minutes before she changed classes. He wasn't going to keep her long, he just wanted to see her and say hello. As he waited, Kimble caught sight of some pictures made by the children hanging on a billboard next to the door. He pawed at them, seeking his child's and finding it. The subject of these pictures was family and he could see sketches made of loving families --- the mommies, the daddies and the kids. Angel had drawn hers, a little scrappy Gambit was there and the blonde headed Molly and a tiny Angel child.

Kimble frowned slightly, a bright hot shot of pain blacking his shine. Angel had not drawn him in.

Remy saw the spike of black in Kimble's shine but didn't know the reason. These pictures were new and he hadn't seen the one she'd made. He took one step forward, giving up stealth over a strong need to know what had upset Kimble so, but the pilot had already started moving, taking long strides away towards the elevator. At that moment, the bell rang and the classroom door opened, pouring out a stream of tiny persons that created a barrier between Remy and his target.

Remy cursed under his breath and then collided into Angel herself. She shrieked a happy greeting and clung to him, weighing him down. "Uncle Remy! What are you doing here?" she squeaked happily before stopping suddenly in surprise, her head whipping around in the direction Kimble had gone. Her overly perceptive mind had sensed his nearby presence. "Daddy?"

" 'E was waitin' on you," Remy stammered lamely. A bright flash of white was all he could see, disappearing as the elevator doors closed. Kimble was gone. "Guess 'e 'ad somewhere else to be."

"Did he see my picture?" she asked pointing up to it. Remy's eyes tracked her hand, hearing her as she spoke, "It's not finished. They took it before I could put him in, but the teacher said I could finish the rest of it after lunch. Isn't it good?"

Remy nodded, but cringed inwardly. He could see why Kimble might be upset. "Oui, chere. It real nice," he replied, his voice betraying nothing.

Angel seemed to sense it all the same. Her voice was pained as she asked, "Can daddy come over tonight?"

"What? You mean fo' supper? Don't see why not. I'll ask 'im."

"It would be nice if he could come every night. He's not happy where he is now. He's never happy anymore. Why can't he come home?"

Remy sighed, finding these questions harder and harder to answer. It would be too easy to lay all the blame at Wolverine's feet. These two had not yet made peace. Angel was civil enough, but she was so cold, so very cold. It was straining Angel's friendship with his daughter Jessie and so far all attempts to get Angel to forgive had failed. It wasn't fair, Logan was not to blame for Kimble's troubles though he was making things harder. No one was in a rush to give Kimble any new freedoms, it simply hadn't been long enough.

Kimble had graduated from his crying jags but refused to liberate himself from the holding cell. He'd moved in his blankets and some of Henry's books, making it clear he wasn't going to move out anytime soon. Kimble was bored from his isolation and growing more and more sedate. He used to plow through a book or two a day when he'd been in holding before. The first book he'd started was the one that was now still only half read and ignored on the tumble of blankets. The pilot wasn't really reading, he was going through motions so he wouldn't be pestered. Remy knew the game well enough by now to recognize it on sight.

Of course it was better than Kimble in the corner bawling, or that's what he kept telling himself.

It was the increase in Kimble's consumption of soda that was another sign all was not well. Kimble loved Coke, he always had. From the first sip he'd taken of that shockingly sweet liquid nectar of the gods, Kimble had been hooked. Problem was, that much sugar had a tendency to sedate the Siskan, it was the main component of Henry's tonics. Henry had a soda machine in the Lab and Kimble had free access to it, something Beast hadn't thought anything of. Kimble was there, drinking three or more a day with no one commenting on it. The fact that Kimble was drinking so much of it now had only one explanation. Kimble was sedating himself. He'd drink and read and then sleep, napping longer and longer each day. No one was fighting it, there was only so much for the Siskan to do in the Lab and quite frankly, Henry was much too busy to babysit the pilot. Kimble was on his own, basically being ignored so long as he behaved.

Yeah, Kimble was behaving all right. Like the right proper zombie he was becoming.

Maybe Angel was on to something here, Gambit reasoned suddenly. Angel's visits had been mostly handled by him bringing her down to see Kimble. Perhaps it was time to get Kimble out of the Lab and back into the family setting. "Kim jus' got 'is furloughs back. Maybe we can see if daddy can come eat wit us every night," he found himself replying, seeing Angel's face light up magically at the suggestion. "T'ink mebbe 'e need to see more of you an' not down in de Lab."

"I like that idea," she answered, giving him another squeeze.

Gambit had smiled then, happy that a solution had presented itself. So sure he had been that a little quality time would help things. It was a false hope.

For three days now Kimble had been coming and the pilot sat in his chair coldly going through the motions with Remy's food just as he had with Henry's books. Kimble's initial response to Remy's invitation should have been a clue that something wasn't quite right, the Siskan had merely shrugged and nodded his assent. Remy had wanted to try and explain Angel's picture, but hadn't wanted Kimble to know he was being followed, he didn't want Kimble to feel stalked. It was bad enough the guards trailed him everywhere.

Gambit had hoped Angel herself might explain away what had happened and she did, presenting Kimble with the finished drawing later that night, but it was obvious that it was too little, too late. Kimble smiled his poor liar's smile at her and told her what a nice picture it was indeed. When she suggested he keep it, he nodded at her politely but then left it behind when it was time to go. Remy didn't think it had been an accident. Kimble hadn't wanted that hurtful reminder of his removal anywhere near him.

Gambit was furious, at his wits end. After Kimble had gone, Angel had come to him crying, "Doesn't daddy love me anymore?"

Now what was he supposed to do with that? He wasn't a trained psychologist and Kimble just kept this stupid crap up. " 'E love you, petite. 'E jus' 'avin' too much trouble right now."

Of course he knew the real truth of it. In his own eyes Kimble had lost and was never going to win. Angel was gone and so he was letting her go, a little more each day. First Aiden, now Angel as well. Kimble was letting them all go. He'd keep going too until there was nothing left unless it was somehow stopped. Gambit simply had no idea what to do. Fed up and more than a little angry, he decided to play one last card. This, the fourth night at supper, he tossed Kimble a curveball, just to see if Kimble was still willing to play.

"Aiden's been released."

Kimble continued to push food in a circle. "Released from where?"

"From Security."

Kimble frowned, looking up from his plate for the first time since he'd been served. "Why wuz he there?"

"Cause 'e was arrested." Remy wanted to add, 'dumbass', to the end of that, but held his tongue. "You didn't know?"

Kimble's look sharpened. "I don' gits out much. How wuz I supposta know?"

"Anyone not livin' under a rock knows it, cher."

Angel made a soft noise. She was sitting next to the man who used to be her father, her tiny heart aching for some closeness from him, any contact at all. It had been so long since he'd reached out to touch her. This conversation was too tense for her liking, it was too much like a fight.

Molly's hand settled over Angel's shoulder, silently soothing. She was washing dishes and standing nearby, close enough to hear Angel's whimper. Molly was aware of what Remy was doing, she had been painfully aware of his simmering anger and had been dealing with it for far longer than she would have liked. Now she was just waiting to see it played out.

" 'E was upset 'bout sumptin' an' takin' it out on everybody," Remy went on, answering the question Kimble should have asked but hadn't. His voice dripped with arrogant sarcasm as he qualified his remark by adding, "Been upset a few days now. Can't imagine what it could be."

Kimble grumbled something inaudible and nasty and went back to pushing food.

"De little cuss hit me."

Kimble froze and looked up again. Yeah, he'd seen the big black eye Remy had sported, but never asked about it, figuring it was an X-man thing, something that had happened elsewhere. Now he had just been told otherwise. "Why he done that?"

"Why don' you go ask 'im?"

Kimble shivered in his chair, his shine swirling mixed emotions. Anger at the biting reply, fear for getting involved, but mostly an overwhelming sense of guilt that this was somehow his fault. It was one thing for Aiden to mistreat him, he knew he deserved it, but Kimble didn't like the thought of the Dreamer's frustration boiling over to hurt someone else.

"I'll go talks with him," Kimble replied softly, his eyes dropping down submissively.

Oh, it was ever so hard to control the smile that wanted to spread over Remy's face. Kimble was too easy. The guilt was there like a tree bearing fruit, blooming there for Gambit's perceptive eyes to see. The master manipulator wins again, score one for the Cajun.

"When?"

"I'll goes tonight. When we's done eatin'."

"Bien," Remy said and went back to his food, winking at Molly when her eyes met his own, a congratulatory sparkle there. "See dat you do."

------------------------------

Kimble shuffled nervously down the hall, a little uncertain. As promised, he was on his way to Aiden's, having finished supper at Remy's only a few minutes ago. He had never been to Aiden's apartment and wasn't sure where he was going. Kimble checked the numbers on the doors and made his way uncertainly. He glanced at a paper in his hand -- Remy had written down Aiden's address on it and he was going the right way. As if in confirmation, Kimble saw the guard in front of Aiden's door, the Dreamer had been put under house arrest until Logan was done with his investigation. Kimble hesitated, nervous in front of these people who always seemed to judge him so harshly.

Aiden wasn't the only one with a guard, Kimble had his own man as well. Jerry, his personal shadow, was trailing behind him even now. When Jerry saw where Kimble was headed, he moved ahead to whisper with John, the man at Aiden's door. They conspired together silently, acting as though Kimble wasn't even there, as if he were beneath their notice. John reached for his cell phone, dialing Logan's number.

Kimble muttered and kept going on his way. He wasn't going to be bullied, not by Logan or by any of his Security thugs. He needed to do this and wouldn't be deterred. His soul was suffering, he was bleeding in places he never knew he could hurt. He had learned of Aiden's arrest from Gambit and saw the damage done to Remy's face. He wasn't told about Aiden's dreams, only that Aiden was hurting because Kimble had been so mean. This was all his fault. He felt guilty and wanted to explain why he had behaved with such cruelty, maybe he could get Aiden to understand. Forgiveness was out of the question, he'd gone way too far, but maybe he could ease some of this pain inside, earn himself a little peace. He would speak to Aiden and flee, never to trouble the Dreamer again.

Kimble walked in front of the guards and waited to be stopped, but the man on the phone said nothing, at least not to him.

"Yeah, he's here, just like you said he would be. I'll let you know if they get out of hand." John hung up and gave Kimble a smug, arrogant smile.

Kimble took another nervous step to the side and knocked on the door.

Babette answered a moment later, looking at her visitor with stoned, half open eyes. "Yes?" she slurred and wobbled a bit on her feet. She was hammered on Aiden's whiskey and completely naked.

"Is Aiden home?" Kimble stammered lamely, shocked by the picture in front of him. Of all the greetings he could have expected, this wasn't one of them. His eyes were drawn to the large brown Mark draped over her beautiful breasts and the shimmer in her shine. He hadn't seen her naked before and was struck by how gorgeous she was. She'd gotten off very recently, no doubt from Aiden since this was their place. What was this? Kimble didn't know Babette that well and she made him nervous now because he had no idea what to expect next.

"Yes. Home, he is," she replied. As she turned to let Kimble enter, Aiden came up swiftly behind her, as beautiful and naked as she was. He gave Kimble a nasty, cold little smile and abruptly slammed the door shut in his face.

Kimble staggered back into the hallway in surprise. He hadn't expected Aiden's rude response but supposed he probably deserved it. Oh, this was going to be bad. Groveling would surely be required. Adding to the humiliation, the guards snickered to themselves, enjoying the show.

Kimble dusted off, trying to regain his composure, and knocked on the door again.

Once more, Babette answered. "Doesn't want to see you, does he --" she started to say, but Kimble pushed past her impatiently. He entered the room, startled by what he saw.

The apartment was tiny, easily a mere third of the size he owned. His own place was small, but this was a matchbox, hardly worth keeping. It was actually meant as a temporary location for new people, but since the Siskans didn't have the same domestic requirements as humans, they'd been marooned here as the Complex was filling up. It was all one room with a small kitchenette. A tiny bathroom was off on one side. It was sparsely furnished and not well kept. Dirty dishes were piled up in the sink and empty liquor bottles strewn about all over. A pile of Aiden's dirty work clothes lay rumpled in a corner.

Aiden had been drunk since he was released that morning and just didn't bother to have Babette pick up after him. They both drank his illegal whiskey and fooled about, giving up on this place and seeing the Complex now as nothing more than a prison. Aiden didn't care about the mess they'd made, he just didn't see it anymore. The humans could pick it up if they were so offended. The man himself was not dressed. He sat sprawled on their tiny sofa, one foot up on the coffee table. The TV was on and he watched it mindlessly with an open whiskey bottle in his hand.

There was the scent of sex in the air but it was muted. It was more like Kimble could sense the echoes of the Kundatesh still clinging in the air. Babette and Aiden were Siskans as he was, the Marks made that clear. They had no real smell, but the evidence of their recent coupling was detectable by the one who just entered. Kimble felt a stab of jealousy he had no right to feel. It was he who had shoved Aiden away so cruelly after all.

"Aiden? Kin I talks ta ya?"

"By all meansz, babble away," Aiden sneered, not looking up from the television. His words were sharp, but the truth was, he was barely in control of his emotions. He was still a little angry, but was far more relieved that Kimble had finally sought him out.

It hadn't been a good past few days for the Dreamer. Logan had kept him in the Security holding cell for three days, long enough for most of his stored power to drain away. That had been the point of course. _"You are possessed, not in control of anything. Your freedom here is an illusion."_

Well, that was Aiden's take on it of course. It had certainly been humbling and infuriating. He hadn't been fed food or Ristle and was only allowed to drink water. He was given nothing he could sustain himself with. He felt it begin to happen on the third day, the heady drowsiness that didn't come from being overworked or drinking. This was true weakness, something he hated above all else. It was a reminder that he was not flesh and never would be. He slept more and more, slowing down as his body's stored energy drained away. When it finally came to where he couldn't even stand on his own, he lay on the bed and let the darkness take him.

He woke late on the fourth day, a brilliant sunrise bursting red over his eyes. He was being laid out on the tarmac, a soft blanket was twisted around him, one from his cell. The smell of leather and expensive cologne gave his rescuer away. " 'Ey, Remy," Aiden had rasped, his voice a dry croak.

"Bonjour, cher. Lay easy, don' try to move."

Yeah, like he even had the strength to do anything.

Remy had taken him from his cell in a wheelchair and was just now laying him down in the shade of one of the parked planes. The great shadow of that Blackbird was just enough to keep the heat off of him, there was enough sun for the power of it to seep into his famished body. A bottle of chilled water came to his lips and he drank greedily, grasping the bottle with both hands.

"Easy, easy. You'll be sick," Gambit cautioned, trying to be gentle. He started to spread Aiden's blanket out a bit, exposing more skin.

Aiden gasped and lay back, wiping his mouth. " 'Ow long?"

"What's dat, cher?"

" 'Ow long I been out?"

"It's Wednesday. You been in de cell for four days, de last one passed out. It's over now. You charge 'ere, den m' gonna bring you 'ome after," Remy replied, brushing loose strands of tangled blonde hair from Aiden's eyes. The touch was gentle and Aiden's shine sparkled a little more brightly at it, needing it.

"Where isz my Babette?"

"She still at de church. 'Crawler's gonna bring 'er by when you get 'ome. C'est bien, cher. No worries."

Aiden lay back and let the sun warm him. It wouldn't take long to recharge. He'd be slow for a couple of days, but he'd soon be back to his usual troublesome self. Speaking of which, "Keemble?"

"Still bein' a pain. You should go see 'im now you out."

Aiden shook his head in a passionless denial. "Keemble gotta come to me. Zere will be no od'er way."

"Why's dat, eh? Dis enough trouble."

"Becausze I have to know it isz what 'e wantsz, an' not szumptin' I pressured 'im into, undersztand? Dat 'e wasz not forzed to love me."

Remy's face softened with exasperated impatience. He understood Aiden's point of view, it was just that the Dreamer was being blind. "Anyone who can read a shine knows dat what 'e feels is real, cher. He wouldn't be hurtin' as much as 'e is if it wasn't. 'E love you wit everyt'ing 'e 'as inside. Go and see 'im f' y'self."

Aiden, stubborn creature that he was, simply shook his head and closed his eyes, repeating, "Keemble muszt come to me. Zere isz no od'er way."

Remy had nodded in his thoughtful, noncommital way, but Aiden had seen the soft smile there. The thief was scheming. Now it looked like whatever Remy had planned had worked. His precious Kimble was finally here, finally here to see him. It meant only one thing, Kimble still loved him, still needed something from him. He'd take it. That didn't mean the Dreamer was going to make this easy, however, Kimble would have to make an effort to regain his trust.

Kimble walked over and shut the TV off. He crouched down in front of Aiden, demanding his attention. He was very nervous, Babette hung in the shadows like a ghost. "I heard ya had some trouble. Remy comes ta see me, said you wuz all mad at me. I wants ta 'pologize fer bein' so mean. I come here ta try an' explain why I been actin' the way I done."

Aiden was looking at him but said nothing. Kimble was close, but hadn't quite said what was needed, not just yet. The Dreamer was waiting.

Kimble continued, "You gots ta understand 'bout me. I seen so many people die cuz a me. One girl, her name wuz Gail. She – she...the last thing she ever said ta me wuz 'I loves ya, Kimble.' Next thing I knows, I gots her brains all over me. Some guy jus' blown 'er away ta gits ta me. She wuz just in the way. I made a promise then. It would never happen again. Never. I ain't always been so true...ya knows that guy Kristalay in the Med Bay...the one all broken up an' ripped? Jael done that ta him cuz a me. What am I 'spozeta do, Aiden, huh? The last thing I wants is yer blood, yer–yer insides all ripped out an bleedin' on me. I loves ya too much. I really, really do!" Kimble put his head down on Aiden's knees, shaking as he started to cry.

Aiden gave a resigned sigh and sat up, finally getting what he'd wanted. He cupped Kimble's chin to make the pilot look up at him. The hand that did this was trembling as he gently spoke, "Aiden knowsz your pain, me. You t'ink Aiden free of all dat? Zat 'e never szee anyone die from 'isz touch, neh? Mebbe you didn' szpend all your time awake, but Aiden 'asz. He almosz' eighty year old, jusz' like you. What you t'ink 'appen in all dat time? Ze pain never end, dat'sz what Aiden learn. Aiden szpend a long time in miszery, never 'avin' not'ing. Not'ing as real asz it feel when you dere in 'isz armsz. Aiden never feel like dat b'fore. Disz mean szumptin', Keem. Jusz' don' know what, only dat Aiden very szcare."

"I'm so sorry," Kimble whimpered.

Aiden gave him a sad little smile. "Dat'sz all right. It'sz all right now, usz." He raised Kimble by his chin and kissed him.

Kimble's body shook from the contact, he was instantly on fire and aroused. Aiden's touch was like a trigger, causing emotional explosions all through him. This was no fluke, the way Aiden made him feel. It was intoxicating and warm like the plasma had been and just as addictive. It was consuming him and he cried out, trembling all over.

Aiden laughed softly, all of his earlier cruelty gone. "C'mon. Aiden needsz a bath," he said softly and rose, taking Kimble's hand to bring him along.

Kimble followed obediently, but saw Babette watching them. She had been quiet this whole time, looking at them with her doped out, glassy eyes. "What about her?" the pilot stammered awkwardly.

Aiden paused and touched her face. "We all done, Babette. You ze beszt. T'anksz."

"Yes, Master," she whispered demurely and smiled with a shiver. Her skin was gleaming in the dim lighting of the lamps and her shine was glowing. She would have eagerly served Aiden again at that moment, guest in the house or not. Kimble did not understand, he didn't think this was normal. As far as he knew, Siskans didn't serve one another, not like this.

"Den get szome reszt, neh? Go szleep, preciousz," he said gently and kissed her, sending a vibration of love and caring. He didn't want her to be upset that Kimble was here.

"Yes, Master," she repeated, happy now. She rustled off into the dim, finding the rumpled and unmade bed. The vibrations from their coupling still clung over it like shadows. She crawled in and was instantly asleep.

"Let'sz go," Aiden said, tugging on Kimble and pulling him towards the bathroom. "Time for you an' me, neh? Come on, let'sz talk."


	2. Chapter 2

(Two)

Kimble looked at Aiden, perplexed. What was going on here? He made a soft sound of confusion as Aiden tugged on him again. They went into the bathroom and Aiden started a bath. This room was reasonably clean, fresh towels were hung and things were put away. Aiden stepped into the bathtub as it was filling up and crouched down to cup the warm water over his face. The water level was rising and the water swirled about him, rising in steam about his body, making it glisten. Kimble's trembling grew worse and Aiden glanced up at him, his eyes all playful invitation. "You comin' in?"

Kimble stripped down and sat across from Aiden in the bath. The tub was small so they were very close to one another, knees to knees. He reached out and touched Aiden's face, seeking something, he just didn't know what. "Why's Babette callin' ya Master?"

Aiden shrugged and shut the water off. He reached for Kimble and lay back, covering the pilot over him like a blanket. Yes, that was better now. Cozy. He gently pressed Kimble's head to his chest as he spoke. "Babette live wit Aiden in N'awlinsz, usz. Jael come, 'e take all ze Maszter'sz Sziszkansz and deir anjelsz. It wasz...it wasz 'orrible. Aiden take Babette an' we run, but not before Jael take 'er Anjel. 'E take 'er child, it–it..." He couldn't finish the thought so he went on to say, "Aiden bring Babette to a plaze 'e t'ink she gonna be szafe, me. 'E wasz wrong. Now Babette, she a ghoszt, not really alive any more, her. Aiden become 'er Maszter, it be ze only t'ing she reszpond to. If Aiden don' act ze Maszter, she don' wake, juszt szit like a dead t'ing. It make Aiden terrible szad, me."

" 'Grams cain't be Masters, not fer real," Kimble said softly. He was warm now in the water and content to have Aiden so close. He had been forgiven, something he'd thought impossible. His joy was hard to contain. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about how wonderful it would be to be taken now, fucked real hard and bruised under this man's touch.

Aiden snorted softly. He was very much aware of Kimble's desire, but had something to say first. "Aiden don' believe in no rulesz, me. Dey sztopped applying to 'im a long time ago, my friend. Disz worl' done not'ing but 'urt me, why should I care 'bout no sztupid rulesz?"

Kimble looked up at him, feeling Aiden's words resonate inside of him. How often had he heard Zander say such a similar thing? He could feel Aiden's pain burning bright and he wanted none of it. He kissed his Siskan brother and made him quiet. He sent out a wave of Kundatesh, wanting Aiden to know just how much he loved him and how awful their separation had been. He was so terribly sorry, he really was. Aiden's response was immediate. He was hard and dominant, grasping Kimble's wet hair and using it to bring him closer in a devouring kiss. He started to pull Kimble from the water, but murmured his approval when Kimble used his telekinetic power to raise them both. They levitated and next tumbled laughing to the small carpet, splashing water all over without a care.

Aiden turned Kimble onto his side and slid in behind him, sandwiching himself between the pilot and the bath. He nibbled on Kimble's neck, biting gently as he teased the pilot's legs apart with a gentle, guiding hand, draping one furry thigh over his own, all the better to take his partner from behind. Kimble was shivering with anticipation and next moaned and shuddered as Aiden claimed him. Nothing felt as good as this, as that first moment of penetration, of being possessed. Kimble was lost in it, it felt so right, giving up like this. Aiden belonged there inside of him just as Kimble surrendered now his heart and soul to his lover.

Aiden seemed to sense it and his touch was gentle and loving. He closed his eyes and relaxed, just breathing in this moment, this simple pleasure of having Kimble again, right here, right now for his own. There were no words to describe the joy of feeling this, of Kimble's slippery, soap slick skin against his own. Of feeling the motion of Kimble's body undulating with his own, their combined motions a dance of their own. Kimble's deep breathing, his soft moans of pleasure, the rhythm of it was music to Aiden's ears, his hair a caress against Aiden's neck. The urgency they had felt the first time they had paired was gone, there was only this gentle love filled sharing of touch, sight and sound.

Kimble's body was leaking vibrations as well as joyful noise and soothing motion. His vibrations were of heartfelt passion and elation at their reconciliation. No words were necessary, there was only love, buckets and buckets of it streaming off of his skin. It was Aiden Kimble's soul had desired, and it was Aiden whom he had received. For the first time since they had met, Kimble was finally at some kind of peace.

Whatever joy Aiden had shared with Babette, it paled to this bombardment of pleasure on every measure of his senses. He loved his sister, he did, but the depth of emotion Kimble brought out in him was vast and deep, far more than Aiden's hardened heart ever had though itself capable of. This was lifesaving love and something Aiden desperately needed. "Keemble..." he breathed in a joyful whisper, unable to fully articulate what he was feeling.

The pilot laughed playfully against him, the vibration of it adding to Aiden's pleasure. Kimble's wings seemed to spread around them, only adding to the sensation of being cradled gently by Kimble's love. Kimble managed to raise a hand without losing his place and reached back to brush Aiden's face, needing to touch him as much as possible, as if the heat from Aiden's body along his backside wasn't enough.

Aiden laughed himself and quickly he turned to slide one of Kimble's fingers into his mouth. Kimble shuddered and groaned at the sudden added heat. He shivered off a vibration of intensified passion and the game subtly began to change. The pace quickened and they wrestled a bit, Kimble crying out for more. Aiden was all too willing to oblige. He reached down between Kimble's legs, chuckling when he found the pilot already slick with gel and ready for the first stroke of his hand.

"Alwaysz for you, zere will be my love..." Aiden breathed into Kimble's ear the moment he made contact. "Now an' forever..."

Kimble cried out and then it happened, the pilot felt that separation of body and mind. He was floating above himself and Aiden was there in spirit, a ghostly image of himself not bound by time and space. Kimble laughed with joy, this special union had not happened to him often and then, as far as he could remember, it had only happened with Remy. The thief was the only one Kimble had dared to allow so close and now here it was, the unique sharing of love only the Lushna-esk could experience.

Aiden's spirit was in him, wrapped all around him, an explosion of love. It came as a huge vibration that swallowed Kimble whole. **_/ Love you, my preciousz. Wit all I am an' all I 'ave. /_**

It was more than the pilot could take. Kimble bucked suddenly, gasping sharply as he climaxed. He shook and shook, an enthusiastic cry with every shudder. He would never be subtle about expressing anything, least of all his pleasure. He came hard and felt it when his lover followed with a convulsion and cry of his own. Sparkling glitter dust cascaded down on them both, the Dreamer had released more than simple gel cum with his pleasure, Morrowhiem was falling all around. It was more than Kimble could handle gracefully, a wave of black ecstacy came at him and swallowed him up in bliss. He was there on the small blue bath mat one moment and then gone the next, the blackness taking him in its familiar warm embrace.

He wasn't the only one taken. Aiden's mind and body cried out with deep welcome, embracing the wall of black as it crashed down on him, his orgasm profoundly satisfying. He wasn't out long, just enough to wake with that fantastic drunkenness flooding the pleasure centers of his computer driven brain. This was sweet, there was no guilt, no uncertainty. Kimble was his completely now, there would be no turning back. The thought of it made him shiver, sending more wisps of Morrowhiem up into the air around them.

It was only a moment later when Kimble's eyes slid open. Sparkling glitter lights were still drifting down on him from above, weightless in the air like dandelion seeds, shimmering against his skin like a caress. He was still on his side, Aiden's arms warm around him. He could feel soft breath on the back of his neck and then felt the Dreamer move.

"Uhhnn...heh," Aiden chuckled softly. "You sztill dere, preciousz?"

"Yeah," Kimble breathed, too happy to do more than just lay here like this.

Soft hands, familiar ones in a new way now, gently turned his head for a kiss. They touched like that for moment, lips pressed together with more than just simple passion, lovers now completely. Aiden looked down on him with all the adoration one heart could possibly muster. He said in a heartfelt whisper, "I will alwaysz remember our firszt kissz. We were asz chil'ren zen. Szomeday, I promisze, we will be dosze chil'ren again. No worriesz, no caresz. Only disz perfect love."

Kimble shivered, unsure of just what the Dreamer was talking about. Was it the kiss on the tarmac Aiden was speaking of or something else? He didn't care all that much, he was too overwhelmed. He sniffed back more tears and cried, "Keeps me ferever!" It was his last and ultimate surrender. "Please! I cain't be alone no more. I ain't so strong as you."

Aiden grasped him tightly, more Morrowhiem wisping off of his hands as he was filled with a sudden and intensely deep love. "My preciousz pilot, you are stronger zan you t'ink. You t'ink I do not know what it took for you to come 'ere, to lay your 'eart bare for me? You szell you'szelf short, my friend, szomet'ing I intend to fix, and fix for good, eh?" He paused and gave Kimble another deep and tender kiss. "Asz for ze od'er? Alwaysz we will belong to each other, alwaysz. Aiden will take care of you, zere isz no need to be afraid, you. Ever again."

Kimble shuddered with joy to feel it and fell against him, pushing to get as close as possible.

Aiden held him tightly, a bit blown away himself from all this. Not even Babette could make him feel this way. They were supposed to be together, this renegade Siskan and his bright, white pilot. That was the only explanation for the intensity of their feelings for one another. They lay tangled together there on the floor, kissing soft and easy now that the heat was gone, until Kimble's shivering became real.

Aiden rose and they went back to the bath. He freshened the water and they lay back down inside as they had before. Kimble was blown away and little more than a contented zombie now, his mind hopelessly numb and comfortable. He lay his head on Aiden's chest and tangled his fingers in his wispy blonde hair, dozing quietly now.

Aiden closed his eyes and relaxed, high himself from the backwash and content in a way he hadn't been since the last time they had laid together. This was his dream. To have this precious pilot become a part of him that could never be removed. This luscious heat and power. My God, Kimble was so beautiful! He put his arms around the pilot and felt him laugh softly in his sleep and tug on his hair again. Aiden shivered and a tear leaked out of one eye. What was he going to do? How was he going to keep this one safe when all he could see was Angel's death in his nightmares each night? He would do whatever it took, whatever was demanded of him.

He stayed until the water lost its heat and then moved them to the bedroom. They tumbled down next to Babette on the bed and Aiden pulled her close, wrapping his two charges closely around him. Kimble babbled something in garbled Siskan and reached across to Babette, taking her hand in a show of his acceptance of her presence there. They smiled at each other, both high now and then slipping back into sleep.

-----------------------

Kimble awoke a couple of hours later, his mind in a fog. He hadn't intended to stay here this long, surely someone from the Lab would come after him soon to bring him back. In a moment of arrogant defiance, he decided to stay as he was. If they wanted to come get him, fine. Until then, he would remain.

Restless, he rose from the bed and stretched. The other two were still out cold. He knew from Aiden's shine that he was sleeping deeply now, something he had needed to do for some time. The look of bliss on Aiden's face made him smile again.

Babette he hadn't been prepared for. He wasn't quite sure what to make of her. She was as beautiful as he remembered, but still found her submission to Aiden a surprise. Or was it, really? He had let Aiden take charge of him quite easily. Aiden's commanding presence was remarkable for a Siskan 'gram. It wasn't normal, but Kimble found he no longer cared. Like Aiden said, the rules no longer applied.

Kimble looked around him and as a natural caregiver, automatically began cleaning up the mess his Siskan kin had made. He let his mind wander as he worked, trying to figure out what he should do. He wanted Aiden badly and not just as a now and again thing. If he was going to do this thing, to take this kind of risk, it had to be done all the way. He didn't know if he could share Aiden with anyone else, but it seemed that Babette was there first. Clearly some things would have to be worked out.

Aiden woke up a short time later. He staggered from the bed, still out of it and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, looking happily rumpled and small. He found Kimble not far away, standing at the sink, washing the last of the dishes.

"What you do disz for, eh? Disz isz Aiden'sz messz. 'E can clean it, me."

Kimble smiled at him, happy now he was no longer alone. "It's all right, I don' mind. I likes ta take care of people."

Aiden smiled and stood close to Kimble, sliding his arms around him. "I'm glad you come back to me. It wasz...it wasz miszery wit'out you."

Kimble rinsed off the last dish and put it in the rack. He wiped his hands and turned to Aiden. "Maybe we kin asks if there's someplace we kin all stay together. Maybe my place or sumpthin'. They cain't keeps me locked up ferever and yous guys need lookin' after."

"Your plaze isz too szmall," Aiden protested, but without enthusiasm. The fact was he wanted to be at Kimble's. It served both of his purposes, it brought him closer to Kimble and Angel both.

"It's better than this," Kimble answered with complete honesty. He didn't like this room, it was too much like a prison and disheartening.

"Logan will not approve. He szcare' of Aiden now, t'inksz he dangerousz."

"He thinks alla of us Siskans're dangerous. Even Seth. Don' make no difference."

"Mebbe when he szay de guard no longer 'az to sztay. When he calm down a bit we try to work disz out. T'anksz," Aiden whispered, meaning it. He pulled Kimble into his arms again and just held him close, loving the fact that he was here again and still wanting him.

Kimble snickered softly and let himself be held. The vibrations of love coming from Aiden were strong and bright, so much of what he had needed for so long. He could detect no deception, no sinister intent. Only this glorious love. He had to be kissed again and pressed his lips against his lover, insistent.

"You like disz, yesz? Szo do I. You kissz szo nize, like no one elsze. I love you szo," Aiden whispered, breathless.

Kimble trembled, a small whimper escaping him. Those words, so deadly.

"You 'ave no fear, my love. Aiden will not die, not becausze of you...not unlessz you leave 'im all alone again. Dat wasz more dan 'e could bear."

"Stay with me," Kimble repeated.

"Aiden isz wit you, alwaysz. He will talk to Remy, szee when if mebbe you can sztay 'ere wit usz. Disz where you belong now, not in szome Lab all alone."

Kimble nodded and buried his face against Aiden's neck. He closed his eyes and hummed softly, making Aiden smile.

This was so nice...so nice, Aiden was thinking. The calm before the storm, the times to be savored. He hoped he wouldn't get too much resistance about moving Kimble in here. He needed to be close to Kimble, he had to keep watch over Kimble and his Angel. He would see them both safe.

Needing to vocalize his thoughts, the Dreamer said, "You szee, dere isz not'ing to fear. We gonna take care of eacho'der, den we gonna take care of Angel, neh?"

"She's gone from me. They tooks her away," Kimble replied, shivering as a tear threatened to fall.

"Mebbe for ze moment, but we'll get 'er back. We gonna do it toge'der, one sztep at a time."

Kimble grasped him all the more tightly. "I loves you so much!"

Aiden smiled, his shine shimmering brightly with all the love and acceptance he'd been missing. Nothing made him feel the way he did as Kimble had spoken those words. It was going to be okay now, it had to be.

"Master?" Babette's soft voice came from the bed.

"Yesz, my love?" Aiden replied, not breaking his embrace with his treasured pilot.

"Cold it is, in here."

"Babette isz lonely," Aiden whispered in Kimble's ear. "Let'sz play."

"But-but ----" Kimble sputtered uselessly as he was towed back to the bed. While he had anticipated that the presence of their sister in their strange new love would have to be dealt with, this he had not expected.

"Zere ain't no **Chuckfet **'ere," Aiden asserted, his contempt obvious. "No **Chuckfet** looking over your shoulder, makin' sure leetle Keemble play by deir stupid rulesz. Non. Disz a Sziszkan placze wit Sziszkan rulesz. In disz placze, we all love and we all play."

Kimble was doubtful. He'd spent seven years with humans, living by their rules and adopted their practices. Homosexual sex was bad, group sex right up there with it. By their rules, with Aiden now as his chosen partner, it was a kind of sacrilege to play now with another. It was taboo, contrary to what he'd been trained for, but the scorn of humans around him had forced him to re-evaluate those things he had once been taught to be okay. Aiden was now asking him to forget that seven years of derisive reprogramming.

"I cain't," Kimble repeated, but with a lot less conviction.

He allowed himself to be moved, stood still as Aiden turned him to face his sister on the bed. "I want you to make her szmile. I want you to make 'er cum. And. I want to be inszide you when you do."

Kimble shuddered with instant arousal at the thought of Aiden's proposal, he simply couldn't help it. He was programmed to and he knew it. Really, since the moment he'd seen her broken heart, he'd wanted to do this, to give Babette comfort the best way he knew how. He wasn't the only one who agreed with such a choice. _Time ta stop fightin' it, Kim,_ Zander whispered from within. _This is what we are._

"Okay," Kimble agreed, surrendering.

"Good. Let'sz play!"

Kimble giggled loudly when Aiden suddenly lifted him as though he weighed nothing and playfully tossed him onto the bed. Babette caught him and they tumbled together, Kimble's laughter being drowned in a kiss. Here again was that intoxicating gel sweet taste in his mouth. It was too easy to give into it. "Hey, sis," he giggled, laughing against her.

"Brother," she replied and kissed him deeply, her hands on his cheeks bringing him closer. He was the only one who had been uncomfortable with this and that was fading fast. She spread her legs, opening up for him, and slid him inside. "Love me, you."

"Always," Kimble said with absolute honesty, shaking now as her emotions plowed into him. She accepted him freely as her brother and now, as Aiden's lovemate. He sensed on some level that this pleased her and it made this so easy, so easy. His kisses were deep and heartfelt, his love for her soaring bright.

Kimble awoke sometime later, unable to fathom how much time had passed. They had played and played hard, the three of them. With each passing moment, Kimble was being told by his kin that he was loved and found acceptable. Any reservations he'd had about playing like this had been blasted away by Babette's vibrations of approval. They had played and once exhausted, the three of them had all fallen asleep in a lazy contented pile.

Kimble now lay still, still too drunk from their passion to even try to rise. He heard the low grumble of Aiden's soft snoring in one ear, the light and easy breath of his sister in the other. He was warm, lost in the mist of their vibrations, hardly realizing that at some point Aiden had shifted and covered them all with the blankets. He was warm and contented in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. He was surrounded by the heat and loving vibrations of others. He had shown them his love in the way he had known best and both had responded in kind. There was no greater heaven for him than this bliss.

He wasn't the only one awake.

Kimble was aware that Babette was lying beside him, her eyes open and looking away. On the surface she appeared to be happy and he thought she was, but there was a deep undercurrent of sadness and loss in her shine. He didn't think it was directed at him. No, he felt that she was intensely pleased with him, that he was important to her in some way and that their play this evening had cemented that belief in her mind. It was something else that was making her sad.

**_She misses her angel, _**Lin confessed in his tiny Siskan. **_If ya don'ts be careful, that'll be us, too._**

_This won't be us, _Kimble promised himself. _I'll takes real good care of m' Angel. I have all along, no matter what no one says._

_With Aiden by our side, we kin be shure of it,_ Zander promised, confident that with the Lover's boosted spirits, nothing could defeat them. _We're stronger than her, we've always been. We are the Purple. You just gots ta stop screwin' around and everythin'll be fine._

"You okay?" Kimble whispered softly, reaching out to touch her hair, to gently brush it from her eyes. "Let me kiss ya. I kin takes yer pain."

Babette smiled at him, saying nothing, but giving in. She turned and their lips met in a gentle kiss. He poured out as much love as he could, honestly meaning it. As he did, he felt the Dreamer stir and embrace him, holding him close from behind, sending his approval. Kimble touched her gently, soothed away her hurts until he felt her fall asleep, then simply held her close

"She'll be okay," Aiden whispered. "She 'asz usz bot' to look after 'er now."

"I loves ya. I loves ya both," Kimble replied, feeling the drowsiness come on him again. Aiden kissed his shoulder gently, his hands softly touching until they both slipped away themselves.


	3. Chapter 3

(Three)

That same night, Seth sat at his computer in the lab, his face glowing blue. He was exhausted, tired from spending so much time on the translation of Aiden's journal. What an impossible life of pain and misery the poor Siskan had gone through. Seth almost wished the book was a lie. If not, it was difficult to explain why Aiden wasn't stark raving mad.

Seth took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He heard someone knock softly on the wall and come in. "Nobody's home!" he grumbled irritably. He was tired and aggravated. He had found no peace for the restlessness that had been driving at him since he had altered his codes. What a ripoff, he'd thought. All that work and his unco-ordination was as bad as it ever was. Now he had all these stupid vibrations nagging at him, making him hard to please, nothing seemed to stop this strange burning that was growing inside of him. He was almost constantly on edge now, grouchy and miserable. No food, no drink, no amount of relaxation had been able to soothe him. He'd hoped that the task of translating the journal would be a good distraction, but it hadn't broken this feeling of unease. It had only exhausted him more with all the pain and horror in it.

There came the smell of chocolate and the soft Cajun lilt, "Je suis de'sole, dat's too bad. Guess Gambit's gonna hafta drink dis by his'self. What a shame. After he spend hours slavin' over de stove."

Seth laughed softly and looked up at him. "Sorry. It wasn't you I was expecting."

Remy came closer and set a cup of hot chocolate down next to Seth's mouse pad, noting the young pilot's wry smile over the fact that his "homemade" cocoa had the Bistro restaurant label on its cardboard surface. The smile drew attention to the fact that Seth's eyes were bare, something that reminded him of the days when Seth was still in the computer system on the Lucky Dragon. Seth had looked younger then, more fragile, yet in some ways, happier than he seemed to be now. Both brothers had changed so very much in all that time, some of that innocence had been lost.

"What?" Seth asked, seeing the odd expression on Remy's face.

"You diff'rent witout yo' glasses."

"I only just had them off. My eyes are tired."

Remy nodded, noticing that Seth was more than simply tired. He still had that strangeness in his shine, like he was exhausted deeply inside where sleep wouldn't get to it. The thief was disappointed to see it there, he was hoping that since Seth and Fallen had patched things up that that flickering would have vanished. Maybe he could get Seth to confess something if he was patient enough, but first things first.

"What happened to your face?" Seth asked with a soft laugh. He'd noted the old yellowing bruise on Remy's left eye. It was a lot better than it had been, but it was painfully obvious he'd been pounded.

Gambit snickered softly. "Aiden happened. 'E not de easiest boy for talkin'."

"Everything okay?" Seth's voice was bit more sympathetic here, something that caught Remy's attention.

"Oui, c'est bien. Me and Aiden work it out. No worries. What's dis you workin' on?" Gambit asked, gesturing to the computer. He knew the answer already, he'd come here to get some information and the fact that Seth was working on the very thing he was seeking made this all the easier.

"Aiden's diary. I typed up the original Siskan document, now I'm working on the translation. It's not really pleasant. He's... he's had a rough life. He makes me sad."

"Why you feel bad for Aiden?"

Seth gestured to the screen. "I can't help it. It's what's written here. I want to think it's a lie, I've been hoping so...but my heart tells me it's the truth. Aiden's been through a lot. He's been melted a bunch of times, beaten, whipped, tortured, raped. It's awful."

"Can I read it?" Remy asked, trying to minimize the hopeful expectation in his voice.

"You can read what I've translated. So far, he's written it kind of like a book. It has a summary and then the details. It's the details I struggle with...so much pain. It's horrible what a Siskan can suffer. It reminds me of Kimble...when he had all that trouble so long ago."

Way back, before Kimble had been repaired, he had spent some time in the custody of Sabretooth and his men. It hadn't been pleasant. There was one ugly incident that had been videotaped. Seth had seen it and it was possibly the most chilling thing he'd ever seen. Seth had obtained the file, he was almost sorry he had. He watched as his brother had been brutally raped and abused. The men had rubbed shit all over him and made him eat it. It had left a scar on Seth that had never healed. He'd seen how cruel people could be and deep down inside, most human men terrified him. It was part of the reason he'd never fought Fallen's isolation of him all that vigorously. He didn't feel safe out here in the world.

"Aiden's been t'rough a lot, cher. But ya gotta take some good from it. 'E's tough, 'e a survivor. 'E knows so much, seen many t'ings, neh? Some of dat could 'elp us."

"You're right. He said some things..." Seth started to say, but hesitated. "I don't know."

"What kind of t'ings, fils?"

Seth shook his head. "I don't want to say just yet. I think I would like to read some more before I say anything. It's just that he knows a lot. More than Kimble does. He said some things... some things that might have to do with me."

Remy quirked an eyebrow at that. What did Aiden have to do with Seth? "Really?"

Seth nodded, but didn't elaborate. Instead, he motioned to the computer in invitation.

Gambit grabbed a nearby chair, took over the mouse and scrolled the file Seth was working on back to the beginning. He began to read, his eyes roaming across the words, hungry for knowledge. He wanted to know Aiden better, was greedy for it. There was so much he wanted to understand.

Seth sat next to him quietly sipping his cocoa, leaning slightly so his shoulder lay against Remy's and waited patiently. He smiled when he saw Remy make a couple of corrections but made no move to stop him.

Seth was a Siskan Courtesan, but he hadn't exactly been born that way. He was actually a living fragment of Kimble's splintered psyche. He had some knowledge of Siskan life, but wasn't formerly educated in it. His knowledge of the language was rudimentary and basic. Because Remy had shared files with Kimble after he had been restored, he had been imprinted with a complete dictionary and the nuances involved with actually speaking it. He had been imprinted with Kimble's complete understanding and so knew Siskan better than anyone else in the Complex right now, except for Babette and Aiden himself.

Remy frowned as he read more and more. The writings backed up some of the things he had been told about Aiden, but in much greater detail. "Can I print out what you've done, s'il vous plait?"

"I don't know if Logan will allow it."

"You trust Gambit?"

"Yes. Yes, of course."

"Bien. It will be our secret, d'accorde?"

Seth laughed softly. "All right, but maybe I should just upload the files to you, **shevra a' tay,**" Seth said, using the Siskan word for secret. It was a code between them that Seth would encrypt the files thoroughly enough that they could not be traced back to him. "I'll send the Siskan original text and what I've translated so far."

"Merci," Remy nodded, happy to get his hands on the journal in any form. He gave Seth a quick ruff of his hair and made to leave.

"I love you," Seth said, his eyes filled with the truth of his words.

The sound of those words always made Gambit shiver a little, especially when they were ringing with some kind of need that Remy had yet to identify. It was so much like Kimble. These expressions of affection came very easy to the two brothers, unlike their human companions around them. It had taken Gambit time to get used to it, now he had simply come to accept it and it was second nature for him to reply in kind.

It didn't stop him from still wondering what was going on with Kimble's younger brother. "Gambit loves you, too, fils. You an' Fallen gettin' on okay?" he asked, brushing a hand over Seth's bare shoulder. The Siskan's skin was very warm, but it might have been the cocoa.

"Yeah, we're good," Seth replied honestly. Well, they were. It hadn't stopped the horrible cravings he couldn't satisfy, but she was doing her best to help him. Not that they were discussing it, Seth still kept his secrets, but even she was sensing he wasn't quite right.

Remy nodded, satisfied with Seth's response for the moment. He wasn't lying and his vibrations were happier since he'd come in the door. "Well, all right, den. Now you take care. Don' work too 'ard. Gambit can only read so fast, eh?"

Seth laughed softly and rose to embrace him, wanting so much to feel those happy vibrations of love. Gambit was quick to oblige, always eager to do what was needed. As his arms enfolded his charge, he reached out with his senses, using the Kundatesh to do a quick read. _Is he okay, Shi'ow-ri?_ he asked his internal advisor, taking advantage of the situation.

_**/ I'm not sure. He's disturbed, but in what way, I'm not certain. Perhaps it's all of Kimble's troubles. Keep watch./ **_

_Damn, Gambit's plate is so full!_

_**/ Know that he loves you. His Mistress will care for him, his love for her is solid, and more than Kimble has ever had. / **_

_Oui, chere._

"It's always nice to hug you," Seth whispered, his innocence making him speak boldly and without shame. He'd felt Remy's use of power, understood that Gambit was concerned. It made him feel loved and there was no pain, only love.

"Always nice to be hugged by you, too, fils," Remy replied, stepping back. Seth's shine was sparkling happily with contentment now and Gambit was sure he was feeling better. "Night, y'all."

"Good night," Seth said and returned back to the computer, happy now. Remy smiled at him and slipped out, eager to get started.

----------------------------

Remy wasn't three steps out of the door from the Lab when he bumped into his favorite big blue doctor. "Bonjour, 'Enry. Everyt'ing all right?"

Beast scratched his head in irritation. "Not really. Kimble is late from furlough. Since he's not with you I can assume he is elsewhere."

Remy grunted a laugh. "Je suis de'sole, I push Kimble Aiden's way. Had to do sumptin', dose boys was self destructin'. I seen Jerry outside Aiden's door on de way 'ere, didn't know de boy was late or I'd 'ave dragged 'is ass back wit me. Look like Kim got a little sidetracked."

"Yes, well. I appreciate that Kimble and Aiden have apparently made peace, but it won't help Kimble's case if he keeps coming back late. So far Logan hasn't called me on it, but he has to know Kimble is there."

"Bien entendu, I understand. I'll go bring him 'ome."

"Thanks."

Remy walked out and made his way down the hall, heading to where he saw the two guards standing outside Aiden's door. They greeted him with knowing smiles, almost a little too eager to see Kimble in trouble.

The guards were not empathic, but nor were they deaf. They were very much aware of what had gone on inside, though not on the scale that one poor Cajun thief now was. Even from outside the door he was being affected by lingering vibrations of the Kundatesh passion that were still seeping out from the apartment like a heady perfume that only he could smell. He could see that he wasn't the only one touched --- the nonempathic, simply human guards were standing there, dimly affected. They were semi aroused even if they didn't realize it, but Gambit could see the red streaking in their shines. No doubt they were thinking of their off duty hours, of how they might spend it once freed. Maybe their significant others were in for a gleeful, passionate surprise.

Remy could see why Kimble hadn't made it back to the Lab on time, with his Siskan kin there were powerful distractions here, a draw he obviously hadn't been able to resist.

Gambit sighed with impatience and rubbed a hand over his scalp, he had no idea what to expect beyond this door. He could already feel the Kundatesh licking at his mind, tempting him with promises of pleasures that could only lead him into some kind of trouble. He took a deep breath, braced his mental shields, and knocked, not the least bit surprised when there was no reply. He'd been given a spare key to the apartment and he used it now to enter, grumbling softly in complaint.

Not one step in the door and he was immediately halted as his shields were blasted away like nothing. So much for being prepared. As bad as the vibrations had been outside, inside they were ten times worse. It was like walking into a restaurant and not realizing you were starving until the smells hit you. His Kundatesh addicted mind reeled, becoming intoxicated immediately. It was hard to think, his thoughts muddled instantly with a sickening arousal that had come out of nowhere. Shi'ow-ri began chattering away, crying out for more, begging him to find the source of this and drink from it, to drown himself in the pure bliss of it.

Damn, he'd forgotten how powerful Aiden's magic was. He could almost see the Morrowhiem glitter still floating in the air, it was so thick in here with Kundatesh. These Siskans must have had quite the wild time.

Filled with a sudden unwanted, aching jealousy at being left out, Remy almost growled in complaint before he could regain control of himself. He shut the door behind him with a drunken hand, not wanting to call any more attention to himself -- the guards were peeking in from behind him, curious about what had stopped him so suddenly.

The room was dimly lit, but the shines of the three sleeping Siskans were bright enough to guide him easily. He moved across the room, intending to give Kimble a nudge and drag him away as quickly as possible. There was no way he was sticking around here for long, it was too dangerous. He had to get outside, back where he could think straight again. He got as far as the bed, but was forced to stop as another surge of jealousy froze him in his tracks.

Kimble was in the middle of the pile, the bodies of his Siskan kin pressed tightly against him, blanketing him with their heat. All of them glistened with the sparkles that only came from extreme joy and fun, hinting at a round of play that would make any pleasure seeking lustful thief wish he'd been included as well. Kimble's shine was the brightest of the three, it was the brightest sparkling blue Remy had ever seen it. Never in all their time had he been able to make Kimble's shine sparkle as brightly as this. He couldn't stop the powerful conflict of emotions it brought out in him. His Siskan self was wounded by it, he was angry in a way he couldn't really understand.

**_/ You can make up for it, Remy, _**Shi'ow-ri was whispering, this time not entirely his friend. She could be swayed by Kundatesh so easily. **_/Wake them, they won't refuse you. Imagine the light in Kimble's eyes then. Let's play, play like we've never done before. It'll feel like nothing else. Please! You know you want to. We belong here, too./_**

Remy shivered, yeah he wanted to. He wanted to so badly he could taste their kisses in his mouth just by thinking of it. He remembered the Siskan taste of them all, that sugar sweet taste of Kundatesh love, of flying higher than the sky itself. He shuddered and looked away. _Can't do it, chere. Molly would never understand. It ain't right_.

**_/ She doesn't have to know. /_**

_Don't matter. Gambit will know. Won't 'urt 'er like dis, not no more. Gotta get Kim up an' outta 'ere. Dis is trouble Gambit don't need._

Shi'ow-ri wasn't going to give up so easily. **_/ See how his shine shimmers? You couldn't do that to him before, but you could do it now. Here in this place. Can't you feel it? They've changed this place, this room, into a slice of Siska. You could be a part of that if you just let go. I'll bet you could shimmer Kimble more brightly than this. You're better than Aiden is. Kimble loves you more/ _**she said, trying to tempt him with his pride.

Remy shivered hard and closed his eyes tightly, at war with himself. Did he think he could love Kimble better? Absolutely. But just because he thought he could didn't mean he should. He had too much to lose to change his mind over a decision made long ago. He was paying the price now, being tested. It wasn't just that Molly was finally pregnant, his love for her was too deep for even that matter. He thought of his wife and grasped his love for her tightly, holding it with invisible hands like a talisman against evil. He was human, not Siskan. He would not give in to this.

"What'z you trouble, neh?" rasped a soft voice, forcing Remy open his eyes. Soft green eyes met his own. Aiden had sensed his arrival and was now looking up at him with the strangest expression on his face. "Keemble isz 'appy. Don' you approve?"

Remy shrugged, reining in those pesky emotions. "Bien entendu. All I ever wanted was for 'im to be 'appy. To be loved."

Aiden shifted, holding Kimble a little more possessively. "You juszt wanted to be ze one. You szorry Aiden win after all."

"Non. Gambit walked away. 'M 'appy for you boys," Remy replied defensively. The last thing he'd expected was to walk in here and be psychoanalyzed. He didn't like it. "Time for 'im to go."

"What differencze it make? You know where 'e isz. Let 'im sztay."

" 'S not up to me. Come on, Kim." Gambit gave the pilot a nudge.

Kimble squirmed and tucked his head deeper into Babette's hair, shivering off a vibration of affection for her strong enough to rouse Gambit's jealousy even more. "S-sl-sleepins now. Go 'way."

Remy nudged harder. "Come on. Get up."

Kimble half opened one eye. One look at the disturbance in Remy's shine had him instantly more awake. "Am I in trouble again?"

Gambit softened the expression on his face. "Non. But you will be, you don't get yo' ass up. Come on, buddy."

Kimble complied, his movements slow and confused. He was aware now that something had passed between Remy and Aiden, but years of loyal companionship had him favoring his former Master. Kimble moved faster to ease the tension, trying to find his clothes. They weren't by the bed.

"In ze bat'room, preciousz," Aiden replied helpfully, not rising from the bed. He pulled Babette closer, using her to fill the void that Kimble had made in leaving.

Remy stood there, shivering with powerful emotions at the sight of it. He had no right to feel them, but they were there just the same --- jealousy, anger, frustration, hurt, a profound sense of having been left out. He wasn't sure just what he was upset about. Was it Kimble and Aiden? Was it Aiden and Babette? Was it Babette and Kimble? Was it everything? He had emotional ties to all three, ties he was doing his best to ignore. Why did it even matter? These Siskans were all happy with whatever bizarre ritual that had taken place here, more than satisfied. It didn't stop the hurt, the fact that at this moment he wished desperately that he'd been included. His addiction to the Kundatesh rush was never so painful to bear as it was now, it made him think irrational things, thoughts that did not belong in his head. He was not supposed to feel those things. He was married, he was gone. This part of his life, the one that included intimacy with these Siskans, was over. He'd made his choice, had walked away. He stepped back, cursing his sensitivity. It had to be all the Kundatesh floating in this room driving him mad. He had to get Kimble and get out of here.

Aiden laughed softly, reading Remy's shine like an open book. "Szo 'ard, isz it not? To be **Chuckfet**, to be 'uman. To be szo much Sziszkan, and yet, szo much flesh. Tell me, which one make you ze moszt 'appy? Which one make you feel ze moszt alive?"

Remy did not reply, not even wanting to go there. The truths were simply best avoided. "Kim. Move yo ass, buddy. Let's go!"

Aiden softened his face, hearing the edge in Remy's voice. Yeah, he'd wanted to gloat a little, but the truth was he was indebted to the thief and didn't really want to hurt him. "Let Keemble sztay."

Remy just glared at him, having already answered this.

"Let usz all sztay at Keemble's zen. We all szo cloze. We need to sztay toged'er, ze t'ree of usz. It better for usz all. Zey could leave usz extra guardsz, camerasz if dat'sz what it takesz. You can make disz 'appen. Aiden 'asz fait' in you."

Gambit shifted, considering. He agreed with Aiden of course, they were on the same side after all. "I'll try talkin' to de boss again. Just don't be 'oldin' yo' breat'."

"T'anksz," Aiden replied, smiling now.

Kimble stumbled out of the bathroom, he had found his clothes as directed and was dressed after a fashion. His pants were on, but he was still wrestling with a shirt sleeve that had gotten twisted behind him. Gambit grabbed him carefully, corrected his shirt with a playful yank, and dragged him to the door, just wanting to leave. Kimble was looking back at Aiden, laughing softly at the mistreatment. "Bye, Aiden. See ya in a bit. I promise."

"Not too long, my szweet."

The door shut and they were out in the hallway, out in the bright light of the real world. Kimble shivered and blinked in the harshness of it. He was aware that Gambit was still disturbed, but said nothing as he was towed along, giving Remy time to settle down. He waited until the thief had him back in the Lab before asking, "Are ya mad at me?"

It was late now and Remy had steered him to the closest bed. "Non."

Kimble touched him, offering no fight as Remy pulled the blankets back and sat him down. He thought he should be back in his cell, but didn't argue. He had improved enough that he was more worried about Remy's shine then where he was sleeping tonight. "Then why's you all upset? I thoughtcha wanted me an' Aiden ta be's friends again."

" 'M not upset. You done good today. M' proud of you. Go back to sleep."

Kimble was confused, Remy's shine was better, but there was that lingering streak of black. He grabbed at Remy and looked him in the eyes. "What's wrong witcha? Cain't I never do anathin' right?"

Remy couldn't hold up under the scrutiny. He couldn't exactly articulate what he was feeling, but the vibrations that came from him were enough. **_/ I love you. Deep inside dat ain't never gonna change. Sumpt'in 'appen when I seen you all 'appy like dat. I-- I wished it was me dat made you feel dat way. It's wrong, I've got my Molly. I'm not suppose' to feel dat way, but I do. It 'urts. I jus' need a little time. All I want is for you to be 'appy. Jus' give me some time to adjust, is all. /_**

Gambit took Kimble's hands and held them to his face. "It ain't you, cher. Believe me. You done nuthin' wrong. Not one little t'ing. D'accorde?"

"Okay," Kimble replied, touching his fingers to Remy's lips in a kiss.

"You feelin' better now?" Remy asked, changing the subject as he lay Kimble down and tucked him in.

Kimble smiled, all dreamy now. "Yeah."

Remy brushed a hand over Kimble's head. "Aiden loves you."

"I loves him, too."

"Den all is good, neh? Bon nuit."

"G'night," Kimble replied, his eyes closing. He was asleep before Remy even had the privacy curtain drawn around the bed.


	4. Chapter 4

(Four)

Logan hung up his phone with a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes on a blinding headache.

"You okay?"

The soft question came from Karen. His wife was sitting on the couch, curled up while nursing Carter in her arms. She had been very clingy with this young one lately and Wolverine knew well the reason. Karen was still shaken over having to remove Angel from Kimble and it was driving the mother in her into hyperdrive. She didn't regret the decision, seeing it as unfortunately necessary, but that hadn't been enough to kill the guilt. Since then she had canceled a few of her appointments to spend more time with all the kids. With all the tension going on in their world right now, Logan didn't see this as a bad thing.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Logan replied. He normally didn't discuss work with Karen, but the sadness in her eyes prompted him to say, "Remy just brought Kimble home from Aiden's. Seems the boys chose to make up."

Karen's face brightened a little at that, the desired effect. "So Kimble is happy now?"

"Yeah, fer now I guess."

He crossed the room and snuggled down next to her on the couch, getting comfortable. He didn't argue when she offered him their son and smiled when she lay her head on his shoulder. He felt a surge of contentment then, that everything was so perfect in this moment. Carter gurgled happily as he nursed from the bottle and grasped Logan's finger, the grip from his odd shaped fingers already greater than that of his sisters at the same age. _Claws_, Logan was thinking. _He's going to have claws._

That was going to be fun. Wolverine chuckled softly when he recalled how many times Molly had complained about ripping her clothes simply getting dressed. If Carter was a squabbler, there could be some interesting fights in his future, too. He was probably going to be a handful.

"What?" Karen asked drowsily from his shoulder. She was warm and comfortable, happy to have her husband home.

"Nuthin'. Was just thinking how cute he is."

"Just like dad," she mumbled, finally slipping away into sleep.

Logan just laughed again and held his son close, feeling the pain from his stress headache vanish. He was watching his son, all that happiness killing that pesky headache quickly. Carter was eating heartily, growing quickly. His eyes were changing to match Logan's steel blue grey, somber and serious. A Logan if there ever was one.

"Gonna hafta teach ya ta growl," Wolverine teased softly, sounding odd with his rough voice. "That is, if ya want ta impress the ladies. That's how I got yer mom, ya know."

Carter gurgled happily around the nipple in his mouth, almost smiling. Logan couldn't help but grin himself at the sight. Impossible that he had put off having kids until now, they had satisfied a hole inside of him that he hadn't known was there. He had always feared the long years of his life, now he realized that while he might lose some family, watching over the generations to come might not be so bad. He had accepted that Karen would probably pass before he did, but she wouldn't leave so big a gap, the kids would fill it, and then their kids, too. Now that Molly was pregnant that family was growing, a thought that pleased him enormously. He had a real place now, a real family and not just the company of a few select friends. This was so much more than simply being part of a team.

He brought Carter up close to his face, breathing in the scent of his tender offspring. He would do anything to protect this, he would even beat down the doors of Hell. Jael wasn't going to stand a chance, the arrogant fuck. Just let him try.

--------------------------

Remy made it home, double time. He wanted to be home, he wanted to be done. He came in, smiling when he smelled the lingering scents from their supper. An unhappier Kimble may have picked at his food only just a few hours ago, but Gambit had enjoyed every bite. Molly was a superb cook and he treasured her. He couldn't stop himself from opening the fridge, poking around for leftovers.

Soft clawed hands touched him, a light bark woofed in his ear.

He turned to look into the lovely blue eyes of his wife. "Bonjour, chere."

_**Still hungry?**_

"A growin' boy's gotta eat."

Molly just laughed and grabbed a plate for him. Truth was, Gambit was underweight by medical standards and probably always would be. His metabolism was a driving steam engine that never quit. As fast as the food went in, he burned it off, something that hadn't changed much even as he was growing older. Molly always had something leftover for him to pick at, knowing it wouldn't last long enough to spoil.

Remy sat at the table, let her warm up his food. When she moved by him, he reached out and gently touched her, making her smile at him. **_Where did you go?_**

"Went to see Set'. Found 'im workin' late in de Lab."

_**What did you see him for?**_

"Jus' checkin' up on 'im. 'E's doin' better. Had to go rustle up Kim after, 'e all good wit Aiden now so of course 'e stay out too late. 'E's all better now, too."

**_What would you do without Siskans to look after?_** Molly teased, her eyes merry.

He took her hand, "Probably stop neglectin' m' wife. Gonna lose 'er if I'm not too careful. Some 'andsome young guy gonna come an' sweep 'er off 'er feet. Take 'er away from me." He had intended to come off as playful, but that close call at Aiden's still had him rattled.

She came close, sensing some seriousness in his tease and kissed him. **_One already did, he's right here in front of me. Shh. Don't tell my husband, it'll be our secret,_** she teased in return, trying to lighten his mood.

"Okay, chere," he promised, kissing her more. The microwave chimed and she tried to back away, but he held her, not ready to let go just yet. They were quiet a moment, then the spell passed, and life went on. He ate his meal, talking about nothing things as she sat with him, comfortable. A soft chime from his computer announced he had mail and he looked over to his desk. Seth had sent him the files as promised.

Ten minutes later, Molly curled up on the couch nearby with a book while Remy poured himself a nice rum and Coke and sat back in his computer chair, ready to work. He had a small work area off to one side, a desk with a fast and speedy laptop on it, and he was ready to peruse the first file Seth uploaded. He wasn't worried about the transfer being detected, one of the advantages of being one of Seth's closest friends was that the Siskan had a way of encrypting and masking the files transferred. No one would be able to track down the source of this file, it would appear as though Remy had stolen it if anyone were able to discover the thief even possessed it.

Gambit himself wasn't too terribly concerned, he was more interested in what he was about to learn. He had no idea what to expect, but found himself slightly excited. He was a sucker for a good story and judging by Seth's reaction, this promised to have some interesting turns. He took a sip from his glass and opened the file.

He read a little of Seth's translation, but then stopped, seeing that something wasn't quite right. Seth's translation wasn't as it should be. He decided to look over the original text and soon saw that Seth's translation wasn't exact. Seth knew classical Siskan, but not its full complexity. Kimble's imprinted knowledge of Siskan on Remy's brain was far more exact, he understood the full richness and nuances, enough that he left Seth's translation behind, wanting the full and unabridged version.

The first section was dated only the third day Aiden had arrived here.

_My dearest Kimble, _

_The fine blue doctor that works here saw fit to give me this book, saying I should write down my "feelings", try to work out the "grief" I must be feeling over the death of my Master and the loss of my home. I have great faith in this "Beast", his shine glimmers with the truest heart and a deep loving soul. As the **Chuckfet** go, he's one of the best I've ever met. I'm only sorry that he's so sad and lonely. He has no mate., no one to care for him on the inside where he deserves it most. I know he compensates for this with his work, he spreads out the love he might have given to such a mate to us all instead. He asks for no reward, only gives of himself so selflessly. I greatly admire this trait in him, it's something I have never been able to accomplish in myself. I could only hope to be as good a man as he._

Remy paused, surprised to read something so heartfelt and thoughtful from Aiden. It had seemed to Gambit that the Siskan had paid very little attention to Beast as he did to most of the others here. Looked like he was wrong. He had a feeling he was about learn that there were a great many things he was mistaken about when it came to this mysterious Siskan and he was right.

Aiden went on to say :

_Yes, I do feel grief for all I've lost, but as much as I admire the great Dr. Henry McCoy, I think this book shall serve another purpose. I will write down my life for you, dearest Kimble. To help you learn what you've lost, to help you better understand what you might gain in knowing me._

_There are no words to describe the feelings you have aroused in me, both the good and the bad. I love you more than I have loved any other, and that was true before I ever came to this strange new home where I now live. There are so many things I want to tell you, so many answers to those questions you fail to ask me for whatever reason, but I don't know how best to say what needs to be said. When Henry offered me this book, I saw an opportunity. I've always been a man of few words, but I'm greedy with the pen. Let's see if I can use that to pass along that which you need to know._

_Yes, I must do this, I must record my life for you to read and understand what we now face. I have put this off way too long, I should have done this years ago when Asher finished his work and cleared my mind. _

_I feel the changes coming. I feel it in the air, I felt it in the way my Master looked at me on the morning of his death. The Game is beginning. It actually started mare than eighty years ago, when the evil ones scattered us to the winds like so much garbage. Now the real playing has begun. I feel such fear. I am a worthless trinket, an object to be used. An item with no rights. I fear my death as willed by those of the flesh, the **Chuckfet**, as if they would be a god over me._

_I am the Dreamer and I dreamed of you, Kimble. I knew I would see you again and that_ _perhaps this time, we might get a chance to finish something that was actually begun long ago._

_Maybe it's better if I start at the beginning._

_My story begins as yours does, at the most beautiful place in the universe -- Siska. We were blessed to be born in one of the great castles of Tushnacray, in the middle climes where the temps stay fair enough for the doors and windows of the great balconies to stay open round the year. The castle was up high, topping a peak of a small mountain that fell down into the fair and well grown fields of crops that spread out as far as the eye could see. This was a prosperous land and no one here went hungry._

_Of special magnificence were the mountains of the Mornay range that overlooked everything. They were tall and jagged, but most of all, peaked with deep white snow. Nothing so cold ever touched us personally, but those peaks glistened up there in the sun so pleasantly that it seemed that great spirits must live there watching over us. I was never so lucky to ever have gone up there, but I dreamed of it often and have painted it from the memories of it that still remain._

_Quishnalay was quite rich, rich enough to escape the law and live as he pleased. He purchased and lived in apartments in the Inner Gardens. This was one of the most sheltered yet prettiest areas in the center of the castle itself. The castle was massive, allowing for him to have an acre or more of his own personal space. He had rooms as part of the main building, but also had outbuildings and bungalows about that belonged to him. Most of his property was in the form of gardens filled with flowers of every color and shape. Fruit trees filled with birds gave great shade and there were many benches of stone about for those who would share it._

_And those that would share it? Well, Quishnalay was the creator of many fine Courtesans such as ourselves, but more than that, he was the proud owner of one of the finest pleasure houses in the castle, and others far away as well. Clients from all over Siska would come to visit his rooms, paying any price for what he could and would provide.. Nothing was beyond him, all manners of pleasure were there for the asking. Vice is always lucrative and Quishnalay was sure to spread that wealth to those in power, enough that he was left to run his house as he pleased with no threat of incarceration._

_Quishnalay learned the craft of Creation from his father and he learned it well. Holographic Courtesans do not have to be paid and require less maintenance then their human counterparts. Give us a bright shiny toy and all thoughts of greed and money flee from our minds. Quishnalay made his fortune on us Siskan chattel and never once considered sharing it with us. Why would he? We were not real and we never would be._

_Quishnalay's name was well known in certain circles and it wasn't long before he was approached by a Dognan King named Paladon. Paladon was the original Games Master and he wanted a large order of illegal 'grams for which he would pay handsomely. And by the way, would Quishnalay mind customizing some of them just a little bit? Of course not, not when there was a great big pile of gold promised. The deal was struck and the rest is well ... history._

_My name is Aiden now, but it wasn't always so. The first born, Talalanay, was the one who began as me.. Quishnalay made a huge clutch of Courtesans. I am not sure of the total number of us in that clutch, but I think there were sixty or more of us in all. Were also all Lushna-esk, the holograms who could feel. _

Remy paused here, his mind struck numb with wonder. It was true that he didn't know Aiden well and was about to learn more, but this he hadn't thought of --- Aiden wasn't the original personality of the Siskan he'd come to know as the Dreamer. Gambit had assumed Aiden was first because Kimble had been first and was the most stable of all the bits of him that had come around to being. He had assumed that since Aiden seemed stable that he was first. He had just been told otherwise. Remy didn't know if the fact that Aiden came later would end up being significant or not.

_As I said, we were all born of the same clutch. This means that over ninety percent of our codes are identical. Like the DNA that rules the **Chuckfet,** it's that last two or three percent that have been altered that make us the unique and brilliant personalities that we are today._

_Being born as a Siskan Courtesan is rather like waking from a long sleep. There is a kind of disorientation --- who am I? What am I? Where is this place I now find myself in? Talalanay came to life slowly, following a bright tunnel of light until it opened wide and there we were, laying on a bed of soft pillows and silken blankets. Sight and sound came to us next, showing us the bright colors and music of this world called life. The bed was dressed in reds, a color most Siskans cherish, and the music was from recording discs being played on a machine near by. All was bliss and light._

_I often speak of myself in the plural. This is no accident. I have been broken for so long, I am simply more used to us this way. The sad truth is, I did not remain one person for long, as you will soon see._

"_Hello there," came a voice._

_Talalanay looked up and saw a man. Quishnalay was sitting in a nearby chair, dressed in a suit made of soft tan leather. He was a large man and in his late thirties, with short cropped hair. He did not appear as the businessman he actually was, he was well muscled and a little rough. It was only when at Court or entertaining guests that he wore his best. Most times it was the leather or even rough homespun when working. He was more of a craftsman than a entrepreneur Talalanay was later to learn and so he dressed that way. Quishnalay got his hands dirty in the making of us. Siskans were his primary business, the brothel was just a side operation and gravy for the goose. He loved his craft and loved his Siskans. When Quishnalay smiled on young Talalanay on his first day of life, the boy saw that love._

_Talalanay was new and his mind empty, he didn't know too many things, but he instinctively knew this was the Master. The one who was to be obeyed. Talalanay did not understand the words spoken to him, but wanted to. He wished to respond, to say how marvelous all this glorious color and music was, but he had no way to express himself._

_Quishnalay knew this and said next, "Have no fear. You will learn quickly, my dear."_

_The ways Siskan Courtesans learn come in so many ways. We prefer the usual manual way by far. This would be physical instruction that comes from words and books and being shown how to perform various tasks. Unfortunately this takes time and the **Chuckfet **are not always so patient. _

_Quishnalay was a Siskan human of high status and his apartments were huge, encompassing several gardens and outbuildings. One such outbuilding contained the Gifting Room. It was a title of his choosing and only confirms his terrible and thoughtless arrogance. It housed a machine, a large computer who's sole purpose was to import information violently into our holographic hard drives._

_It was the same day of our birth that Quishnalay brought young Talalanay here. Talalanay was fresh and empty, blissfully ignorant of all things. He was in the skin of a young child, a boy of only six or seven years old. Quishnalay had these child skins as our defaults to keep us out of trouble, but also to help him recognize us. Each of us was different, our gender based on personality traits he could see in us as we became better formed. He saw Talalanay as stronger than some and so gave us the skin of a young boy while others were weaker and more frail, dressed as girls._

_Talalanay was so open and so bright, he was mesmerized instantly by the great gardens he was brought through as he was taken to the bungalow that contained this Gifting Room. My memories of the gardens are almost always of that first moment of discovery. That brilliance of color, the sight and sounds of multicolored birds giving forth their great music. It was heaven certainly as the humans describe it. Nothing has ever come close to that._

_Quishnalay brought Talalanay here to give him the gift of language. He brought Talalanay to the Gifting Room and lay him on a long flat table, strapping him down. Talalanay was laughing, high on the heady sensation of touch. The Master's hands were warm and the heat of it no greater pleasure. A headdress was placed on young Talalanay and then came a great and blinding pain._

_Talalanay screamed as knowledge poured in like a great and evil torrent. It was blinding and bright, coming in much too fast to be any thing but pure torture. It was like a kind of rape, having all of that forced into you without your consent. The first time this is done will always remain the worst because you don't know it's coming. After that one can at least brace themselves._

_When it was done, Talalanay suddenly understood the words spoken to him. The Master was here, touching him again softly in apology for so rude a process. It wouldn't stop him from doing it again, the fuck._

_Anyway, Talalanay was given language and then the learning began in much more gentler forms. Now came books and teachers and Talalanay learned about Siska and what it was to be a Courtesan._

_Life was good at first, so much to explore and enjoy. _

_Contrary to some stories that have gone around about us, being a Courtesan is more than being a simple fuck toy, something most **Chuckfet** never truly see.. We were made to be sold out and sent away from our Maker. We were designed to fully insinuate ourselves into the lives of our new Masters, to perform all functions of the house as well as the bedroom. To this end, Talalanay spent many days in class. He was taught how to cook those dishes most favored by the human Siskans, learning his own love of food along the way. Cooking was like a dance, a play of colors and smells, and Talalanay was quite good at it._

_He learned also how to organize a house, how to make shopping lists and clean like a fiend. Most Courtesans I know are neat freaks, it's programmed in. We like to be clean and tidy, to please the Master by caring for all of his needs. Talalanay learned to wash clothes and furnishings, learning to have a care for the delicate things. He learned to make beds and sweep and take out the waste. Sounds corny, huh? Not really. What is love but the taking care of those we treasure? _

_Talalanay did learn the arts of pleasure of course. He was taught to dance and sing, to provide joy with the sound of his voice and the movements of his body. These were the precursors to the real purpose of our being, the art of sexual pleasure. It wouldn't do to simply fall into bed and couple madly like uncivilized animals. No, there was a whole design and grace to what lay before the actual act of sex. We were trained to create an atmosphere of safety and retreat so that the Master would always have a place to go where he could relax and leave all the cares of his life behind. They could find a place to hide in us. _

_To help in this, a Courtesan must be aesthetically pleasing. Talalanay was given some skins to work with. His primary or default skin was still the one he was given at birth, that of a young boy. This skin carried the blue Mark of Receiver, but for the moment, all that Mark meant to Talalanay was that he was decorated. He knew nothing of the Game or his future purpose. The significance of being a Receiver wouldn't come into play for a while yet._

_Talalanay remained for the most part in that young boy skin when he performed the duties of the house. It helped to Mark him as a Courtesan in the first place and it pleased Quishnalay to have him smaller, making him easier to correct and punish if need be. Like all the young ones, he wore a leather collar about his neck with a fine brass plate that had his name written on it so all would know him on sight. It couldn't be removed, it was part of the skin itself. Talalanay learned his lessons quickly, his built in desire to please causing him to go out of his way to avoid his Master's wrath. The punishments were simple, a slap on the back_ _of the hand, a raised voice, a smack on the head. Not so very painful on the outside, but hurtful and wounding on the inside. Talalanay wanted to please and so he did, being corrected only very rarely._

_Quishnalay was our Master and he saw to it that we were trained, but couldn't handle the huge task all by himself. Talalanay didn't know it at the time, but he was part of a huge clutch. It was very rare to produce a clutch of our size, we numbered just over sixty in all if my tally was correct. He had to care for us, train us, and most of all, keep us in line. In order to pull this off, Quishnalay had several assistants to help him out. We were divided into small groups and we never saw all of our members. I think Talalanay grew to know maybe four or five of our clutchmates, all children like himself. He learned with them in the same class, but as they later departed, we have never seen them again. So innocent was Talalanay that he never questioned their leaving, it simply happened and life went on. Even now I have no idea of their fates._

_Like his clutchmates, Talalanay possessed multiple skins for play. One was a lovely young man, another was a dark haired woman. He felt the same regardless of what skin he wore, age is within, not on the outside for us. All the skins showed Talalanay's beauty, the perfect, pure manufactured heart within. Talalanay was a good Courtesan, he was compliant and thoughtful, always laughing and kind. A top notch product. Quishnalay was so proud._

_After a few days of training, when Quishnalay was satisfied that Talalanay knew enough of the menial tasks of the house, he brought him to a pleasure room for the first time._

_We Courtesans have the pleasure files as you know, but they are simply implanted memories and they do not have the weight of actual experience. Quishnalay knew this just as he knew that there were those who would pay for the privilege of being the first to "break in" a newly made Courtesan like Talalanay. Money was passed -- the first we had ever earned -- and Talalanay was handed over for the day._

_Talalanay lost his virginity to a Siskan woman of high rank, a Senator if I recall correctly. It was brief and hot and fast. Completely mind blowing. What are files compared with the blast of heat and thunderous heartbeat from the physical body of a living client? It was overwhelmingly beautiful and Talalanay climaxed ridiculously early, shivering at the sound of her laughter tinkling in his ear. He spouted poetic apologies, certain he was to punished, but she only laughed all the harder and took him in again and again, showing him all of her wiles before finishing herself._

_Hours later, Talalanay lay next to her sleeping body, his mind swirling with glistening sparkling memories. The love files became facts, became the tools he would later rely on without thinking. He couldn't stop himself from touching her, from smelling the heat coursing through her body, from feeling the strands of her soft, silken hair. When Quishnalay finally came to take him away, Talalanay cried at the separation and begged for her to become his Mistress, but she only smiled at him with amusement and watched as he was taken away, offering nothing more of herself._

_Talalanay was heartbroken. Well, at least until Quishnalay brought him to the pleasure room the next day and gave him to another client. It didn't take long for Talalanay to see that the joy he'd shared with his first client was the same he'd feel with them all. His first client became a dim memory and he threw himself into the pleasure room activities with all the lustful abandon of a precocious and promiscuous teenager. He was insatiable and Quishnalay's pockets grew heavy with gold and silver, his smile wide and pleased. _

_Talalanay was in heaven, filled with a sense of worth and value. Like all things in Siskan life, it came with a price. Talalanay's fun lasted for a few more days, then halfway though his third week of life, the Kundatesh came. _

_It comes on us all, those of us that are Lushna-esk, or so it was explained to me by my Master. If it's going to occur, it will come mostly within the first few of weeks after being "born", and so it was with Talalanay._

_It starts out small, just the simple intuition about the emotional state of others. You begin to know their thoughts by way of their emotions. You can detect deceit, barely controlled anger, internal emotional pain. These vibrations from others just barge their way into your mind unasked for and disrupting your whole life. You try to help those that suffer as a means to ease your own pain, but it only makes things worse. The greater the contact, the more vibrations you feel. _

_Before long, contact is no longer needed and you're drinking the stuff right out of the air. This is the worst. All those thoughts creeping in. An argument nearby turns into a vibrational explosion right in front of you, painfully bombarding all of your senses. All you desire is escape, hiding into the small spaces for peace of mind._

_As if that is not bad enough, there is a secondary condition that can sometimes follow. It comes to those Lushna-esk destined for greater things, for those of us that are just a little more special than most. Being a Receiver with powerful energy codes, it was pretty much inevitable for Talalanay that it would happen to him. It's called **Shemusk**, the Great Awakening. _

_**Shemusk** is best described as a sort of puberty. It is a time of much confusion and explosive emotion. The pleasure files the Master so thoughtfully provided Talalanay with kicked in, wanting to have a say. Talalanay went into full heat, spending most of his time fully aroused with an insatiable sexual hunger. _

_Sex is everywhere in a Siskan Master's house and Quishnalay's was no exception. As I said, his primary source of income was his massive brothel. Whatever erotic notions one might have, they could be served here. _

_Talalanay was always an eager participant in the goings on of course, it was what he was programmed for. In the case of his growing **Shemusk**, the pleasures helped to beat Talalanay's suffering and the pain of everything else that was coming in. At least for a while._

_Beginning with **Shemusk,** Talalanay thought to hide here in the pleasure rooms, burying himself in whatever available clients that awaited. It didn't help. The harder he played, the more he wanted. It was constantly on his mind, making him consider playing with those he had never once thought of before -- the servants, the attendants, his clutchmates. Not even that would help. What greater torment than this? To play and play and yet never be satisfied. This is true **Shemusk**, the greatest evil._

_It hit Talalanay so hard. He suddenly felt all alone and filled with a strange fire he couldn't put out. Nothing would satisfy this horrible craving --- no food, no drink, no amount of comforting touches from the others around him. It was like being perpetually hungry, but not for food. You desire something unsubstantial yet far more satisfying. He would return time and time again to the pleasure rooms only to climax without satisfaction, burning with desire over and over again. He would fuck and fuck until he would fall dead asleep with exhaustion, sleep being his only escape from this strange affliction._

_It is more than a simple sexual hunger, there is also the hyper sensitivity to the emotional vibrations. We feel them always, but now they had kicked up a notch, speaking to Talalanay with their own voices. The constant whispering was both frightening and frustrating. Talalanay had no control over this and it was debilitating, constantly knowing the feelings of others. He grew angry and sulky, unreasonable in his inability to control the depth of his own emotions. He was happy one moment and then crying the next. He was almost perpetually miserable._

_I have Talalanay's memories and they do serve me with the knowledge of **Shemusk** though I can safely say the hurt of it no longer is with me. It doesn't mean I don't know the look of it when I see it. I have not actually seen **Shemusk **in another many times. My experience is mostly with mature Lushna-esk Courtesans but I did see it some years ago, it was within a human of all creatures, something I never expected to see. _

_Funny how Remy never spoke of it, being that it has to do with him, but it hasn't taken me long to see he has withheld much from you, my pretty. Something I intend to rectify. _

Remy paused, frowning and offended. If he had withheld anything from Kimble it was done from love, not malicious intent. Furthermore, he had no idea what Aiden was getting at. **Shemusk** was news to him, something Trishnar nor any of his Siskans had spoken of while he was there. What was Aiden talking about? Not getting any answers from his own mind, Remy returned to the text. What he read next stunned him.


	5. Chapter 5

(Five)

_I remember how Remy came into our lives. _

_I had seen him in a dream before Babette had even laid eyes on him. It was whispered to me that he was coming and that I was to help him in some way. I would know what to do when I saw him. The voices did not lie, for a couple days later there he was. Babette came home, glowing from head to toe, and told me the tale of how she'd picked him up out of the crowd at one of her favorite French Quarter hangouts, The Fair Chere. At first she had chosen him for his obvious beauty, but it hadn't taken her long to see that he wasn't like anyone else there. _

"_He had the Kundatesh!" she whispered to me._

"_Imposszible," I said. "No human doesz." _

"_He does!" she insisted and it was true. She had allowed Remy to take her to a hotel for play, a place she would later keep as her favorite place to take clients. The two of them had quite the wild time, a dance of pleasure that had lasted for many hours. She was overjoyed by this as she has a tendency to overwhelm some of her lesser human clients. But not him. He kept pace with her, the greatest pleasure of all._

"_Magnificent he was!" she said to me. Even as time passed, her amusement with this strange human remained, and when she found him again a few weeks later, she was quick to bring him to our home. It wasn't normally allowed for any of us to bring clients to the house, our Master was an offworlder after all. Couldn't be frightening the local human sheep like that. Anyway Remy was in a bad way, this poor human. He was worried sick about you, my dearest Kimble. Babette used that as a tool to work around the rules of the palace and Trishnar allowed her to bring him in._

_The first moment she was free, Babette ran to me, her eyes brimming with excitement. "It is him! The one I told you about, a human with Kundatesh!. But sick he is now, sick in his heart. Something has happened to his Siskan."_

_When I saw him for myself, I could see she had not been mistaken about his power or his condition. Yes, he was distraught about his poor lost Siskan, but his trouble ran much deeper than that. He didn't suffer so much from the sexual hunger, but I could see that he was suffering from the bombardment of emotional vibrations. He was under a lot of stress. He of course had no clue what was going on with his own body. He was like Talalanay had been when the Kundatesh first came to him. He was lost and seeking a good teacher. _

_I don't know how long Remy had had this power, he was so feeble with it that it couldn't have been for long. I was later to learn that you had only recently gifted him with our magic, by some strange means no one could adequately explain. I still don't understand it myself, this sharing of files. I could think of no worse thing for him, to be trapped between being **Chuckfet **and Siskan, but there he was, beautiful in his suffering._

_Babette's poor precious find had that look of pain, of suffering from a need that could not be satisfied. His eyes betrayed a lack of sleep and his body was thin, clearly the boy hadn't been eating well for some time. He had the smell of drink and strange medicines on him, chemicals that couldn't possibly help him, the poor dear. He had been suffering for weeks with this and needed the door opened. _

_I knew what this was even if Babette did not. Remy was more than sick, he was in **Shemusk.** Perhaps not as much as a true Siskan could feel, but confused enough to suffer._

" 'Scuze me?" Remy spoke aloud in his confusion. Yeah, he remembered being a little out of sorts, but not to the degree that it demanded another Siskan's immediate attention. Sounded like maybe Aiden was more than a little full of himself here. Remy sipped his drink and read on.

_I knew what Remy was suffering from and I that I was the one who was to help him. That was what I had been shown in my vision. I knew what to do, Quishnalay had explained the cure to Talalanay long ago. It requires the services of a Lushna-esk Courtesan, the more powerful the better, a Kintay du Lushna-esk in particular, if you can find one. Lucky for Remy, I just happened to be available._

_Babette did not recall her own **Shemusk**, but trusted me well enough when I told this to her. She was not powerful enough to do what was required properly, to free this poor suffering human from something he was unaware of himself. See, she had been melted, but only just once and not so many times as me. She was not a true Kintay as I am., she was only just slightly "touched". She had been teaching Remy some control, but it was a job left incomplete. _

_I told her my desire, to help him the way it should be done, that it was inconceivable for him leave our palace remaining in such a state. He would never find peace with his power, it would torment him always. I presented myself to him many times, but he kept refusing me, much to my frustration. My dear Babette later explained that he wouldn't come to me, not with me as a man, the silly boy. I waited as long as I could, hoping he would come around, but then he said he would be leaving us. There was a sense of panic in me, of a great desire to see the job completed. I changed skins for him and then we lay together, him and I. _

_I wonder if he remembers me, of what we shared that day. I remember it well enough, so I do. The bright lights and magic. I will never forget that moment with him, I will always remember the look in his eyes, that total bliss of having all of his pain and suffering removed. There is nothing that compares to that expression of complete awareness, of being opened and free. _

_You see, if it's left too long, if the 'gram is left to suffer with **Shemusk**, it will drive them mad. Some do not even survive, they destroy themselves to end their pain and endless_ _craving._

Gambit paused here to think, knowing that in his own stubborn way, Aiden had been right. There had been a period of time, just after he'd met Kimble and they had shared files, where he hadn't been all that stable himself. He was learning about the shines and vibrations, but he was all alone, trying to educate himself about this power on his own. Kimble had been taken and there was no one he could talk to about it. Seth was around, but as far as anyone knew, Seth didn't have the Kundatesh, he had no answers to ease Remy's suffering. Of course Remy was stubborn himself and not always willing to talk about things that troubled him.

Remy had thought that he had suffered from stress, not that he was feeling something that could be classified as an actual condition. Here Aiden had offered him a name for it, the Great Awakening, **Shemusk**. A bold title for such a simple thing, but it was a fact that at points Remy was close to breaking down. If he hadn't had the support of his teammates and family back home in New Orleans, he would have cracked up for sure. His emotions had been all over the place --- he was angry, he was sad, he was confused. He'd gone violent, lashing out at Wolverine in a way that was not normal for him. Suicide had crossed his mind on more than one occasion, not a new thing for him, but he was fortunately stronger than his darker side. Gambit had blamed his troubles on his distress over the loss of Kimble and his inability to recover him. Apparently the best thing he had done was go to Trishnar's.

Remy wasn't stupid, he knew that both Babette and Aiden had helped him, he just didn't realize until now just what it had meant. If what Aiden was saying was true, he'd been in deeper trouble than he had realized.

_As it was with Remy, so it was with Talalanay only much, much worse. Being a true Lushna-esk, the hurt and pain was doubled. Talalanay cried and cried and Quishnalay eventually noticed._

_The Master took Talalanay to a separate place in his apartment, an area he had never been before. Quishnalay owned many Siskans and more than a few of them were special in different ways. He left Talalanay in the care of Sharak, a Lushna-esk Courtesan he'd made from a private clutch many years ago. Sharak was special. He wasn't just a simple Lushna-esk 'gram, but a Kintay like I am now. I never learned what horrible things had befallen him to make him this way, Talalanay hadn't questioned it at the time, he was much too innocent. All he knew was that Sharak had an amazing power, one that was about to be jump started in himself. _

_Sharak was intensely beautiful, a perfect male specimen and indeed, Talalanay's first Kintay partner. So many things Sharak taught little Talalanay that day, more than his Master intended I think. They lay together and Sharak opened the door. _

_It doesn't have to be done this way, the door can be opened by a powerful Kintay with just a touch alone, but there is nothing like that first time we lay with another like ourselves. There are no words in any language to describe it. Nothing can come close to the exchange_ _of Kundatesh between 'grams, nothing. It puts every **Chuckfet **client to shame, making them seem not so perfect as they had been before. _

_Tell me, Kimble, don't I speak the truth? What thoughts ran through your mind the first time you ever blacked out? The **Wasayachay-sharoo -**--- the Love Sleep --- Frashnay calls it, remembering its true name when I did not. Tell me, did any **Chuckfet **client ever satisfy after you felt that?_

Remy paused here to softly laugh. Okay, he was guilty here of agreeing just a little bit. It was true that being with a Lushna-esk Siskan was a real trip, redefining sex for him forever. He would always be drawn to it, an addiction he would be forced to deal with for the rest of his life. It had pulled him away from Molly and drawn him back to Kimble all those times. But he'd made his final vow and it was one that he would never break.

You see, Remy knew something that Aiden did not. Remy knew that love transcends all of that. No great Kundatesh rush could ever replace the way Molly made him feel. Sex had nothing to do with it, nor did her pregnancy, though that was an added bonus. The reality was that Molly was a better fit for him than Rogue or even Kimble had been. Just the sensation of her arms sliding around his waist, her head gently resting on his shoulder, there was nothing close to that. Her laugh, her soft and tender sounds, it was a music to his ears that Kimble could never create. Her vibrations, so perfect and compatible with his own. They did not carry the bitter undertaste of Kimble's deep depression, a side effect of his terrible breaking. Her vibrations were forever sweet, her shine the brightest of all.

Just thinking about it, the thief was forced to close his eyes and shake there for a minute. He loved her in a way that most men would never freely admit to, too proud to give away such a terrible secret. He would die if she were gone, he could never survive the loss. She was his foundation, the only thing that kept him sane most of the time as he dealt with the Siskans in his life and the turbulent world outside. The thought of Molly loomed large in his mind and he was sorely tempted to shut the computer off and take her right there on the couch.

_Got to get dis done_, he grumbled to himself. He was too easily distracted, especially when the task was less than thrilling. He doubted there were too many happy endings in here. _Just a little more, dan we see if Molly's up to a little playin', d'accorde? Dat's a good boy, heh._ He smiled at his own joke and began to read.

_Did I make you laugh and smile just then? Heh, I'll just bet I did. See I know a thing or two about this Love Sleep. I must admit here that I have never experienced this myself. It turns out my Receiver codes do not allow for such a thing, but I had seen it many times, oh yes. Unable to pop me out, Sharak used something far more powerful than a simple Kundatesh rush to break me from **Shemusk.**_

_He used the Morrowhiem, the greatest of all of our gifts. _

_The Morrowhiem. It's the formal name for the sparkling lights, the Love Glitter. The Morrowhiem is a special magic, one that fills us with such love and happiness. It's our most precious gift._

Remy smiled, having some knowledge of this. He hadn't thought much about what he'd witnessed, but the expression "Love glitter" brought it all back with a startling clarity. He'd been at Trishnar's for days, trying to learn all the secrets Trishnar's 'grams had to tell. Aiden in particular had interested him but Aiden's information had a price --- the Dreamer desired intimacy, something Remy hadn't had in him to share, not just yet. The two of them had been playing a kind of cat and mouse game, with Aiden refusing to speak to him. Poor Babette had been caught in the middle, trying to make peace. Remy had followed Aiden to one of Trishnar's huge libraries and once more tried to get Aiden to simply speak to him. Aiden wanted more than conversation and they had argued. Aiden had started to walk out but Babette convinced him to stay, prompting him to use the Morrowhiem as a bridge between them. He had done so, creating a cloud of glitter that floated in the air like fairy dust.

Remy would never forget that. The lights were small bits of psychic energy and when they touched him, it was like being kissed all over. He'd been filled with the most delightful peace and happiness, thinking of all the simple pleasures in life he had ever enjoyed. He had laughed and laughed, drunk on it almost instantly, all of his frustration with Aiden gone. Aiden had tremendous power and he could control the message passed between them. Without speaking a word, Remy could feel the Dreamer's great affection for him. It had been one of the greatest thrills of his life.

Later, when they had finally been intimate, that same glitter had passed through him directly. It had blasted his mind, kicking that door inside him wide open. Shi'ow-ri had shouted with joy and became his greatest companion, a gift that had changed his life forever. Remy knew he was in debt to Aiden, to them both. Aiden and Babette would forever be his responsibility, a job he would always cherish.

_Talalanay got his first taste of the Morrowhiem on that fateful day with his Kintay du Lushna-esk teacher. Sharak took Talalanay to a private room, one that had a huge bed covered with bright red silk sheets and thick blankets and pillows. When Talalanay asked about this place, Sharek explained that this was his own private room that the Master had given him. Sharek's function here was the release of **Shemusk**, a task he performed well._

_Talalanay laughed in spite of his own swirling emotions. Sharek's vibrations were happy and intoxicating, almost as much as his strange broken speech. Sharek was Talalanay's first Kintay, the first he'd heard speak. Sharek speaks like I do now, his Z's sharp and exaggerated. If I was more superstitious, I might have seen that Talalanay's first Kintay speaking as I do now was some kind of sign, a mark of fate._

_Sharek lay Talalanay down, and well... I haven't the words to describe this, the wonderful explosion of sight, smell, touch and sound. Talalanay learned there was so much more than just his physical body, there was a place that could only be reached by two souls with the same magic, a Kundatesh Express to another place. A place where our minds meet and touch in ways no **Chuckfet **could ever understand. Sharek pulled Talalanay from his body, brought him there and wrapped Talalanay up inside himself, letting Talalanay feel him inside him_ _and out. The climax that followed was Kundatesh induced and explosive, sparkling glitter lights poured into Talalanay and found kin within. Talalanay's power was only just growing, but the potential of it was there and Sharek saw it._

_One good blast of Sharek's Morrowhiem and Talalanay's own Kundatesh came out in a torrent. The aching burning inside was put out and all was calmness and bliss. The young boy found peace. He saw the shines and understood that he could now "see" and "read" the moods of the humans around him._

_This is what Sharak did for Talalanay. I imagine Sharak's relief at a job well done was as great as mine was for what had passed between myself and your Remy._

_I know you know what the Kundatesh is, dearest Kimble, if not its true name. It is the power that we share. There is no love like that which passes between those with the Kundatesh. It's the most empowering thing, the most sacred. _

_To this day I still prefer my own kind to my **Chuckfet **clients. Really, what do the **Chuckfet** have to offer me? Their love? Please! The only thing they love is themselves. That and all the wealth their greedy little minds can imagine.. No, the **Chuckfet **are an amusement to me and nothing more. It's a Kundatesh love I need to really feed the hunger inside me. If I hurt, it's Babette that heals me. She does it with her love and her great and loving heart._

_The Morrowhiem is part of the Kundatesh, but not all of us possess it. Those that do end up with it can have it with various degrees of potency. It is this magic that can be used to persuade the wounded to heal. It boosts the mood, you see. Heightens one's spirit. With the **Chuckfet**, it can become a terrible addiction. The Kundatesh in its weakest form can be lure enough, but a **Chuckfet** addicted to the Morrowhiem can be a creature in woe, indeed. They'll hound you, force you, beat you close to death just to feel it again. It's another reason I have never used it on a **Chuckfet** client, it's simply too dangerous._

_The Morrowhiem is powerful, it can heal more than the wounds of the flesh, it can heal the wounds of us if you have the talent deep enough. I admit, my ability with that magic is not as powerful as that — but I know one who is. Asher. _

_He comes later in my tale, but I think of him when I think of broken things. He helped me in many ways and I do hope that there comes a time when you will meet him for yourself. I hope that the Games Master preformed well for you, but I have lingering doubts. He wasn't able to fully repair me, and so I wonder just how whole you really are, my precious Kimble. I have wondered why it was that my Master never offered the services of Asher, he would surely have done so if Remy had but asked. _

Gambit stopped again, breathing a shivery sigh of frustration. It really would have been nice if he'd been given this information a long time ago. All these years he'd been struggling when perhaps he hadn't needed to. It was true he wrote to Babette, sending along his best wishes to Aiden, but he hadn't spoken of Kimble's troubles. It just seemed too much like whining and he wasn't one to complain. Over the years, Remy's correspondence trailed off as life took over. Every now and again, Aiden would send another painting, prompting Remy to write again. Christmas cards and small presents were exchanged, but the closeness that they had achieved over the six days he'd spent there had never been fully felt again. Remy did not go to Trishnar's palace to visit again, nor had an invitation to return been sent. The fact was they were competitors in the Game and there would always be some distance between Trishnar and himself

Trishnar had been kind enough to offer him the salvation of the Games Master, but that did not mean he would be so generous to help him any further. Remy now knew that Asher was a Rogue, Aiden had told him so before. Why would he expect that Trishnar would grant him the further boon of the use of such a powerful Rogue 'gram? There would always be the risk that Remy would turn on him and try to steal such a prize. He was a thief after all, right? Remy wouldn't have been so crass, he respected the 'grams too much for that. Trishnar was a good and kind Master, he wouldn't try to take a Siskan away from someone who showed such respect for those he possessed. Now if abuse had been involved... that would have been something else. But of course such a cruel Master would not have been as generous as Trishnar had been. Gambit had never been given any reason to fear for Babette and Aiden's safety.

Remy sipped his drink, trying to quiet his wandering thoughts. Perhaps if he continued, he might be able to discover Asher's whereabouts. Aiden was speaking of him as though he still existed somewhere in Trishnar's care. So, back to Aiden's tale.

_Sharak, the powerful Kintay that was used to open Talalanay, told Quishnalay that Talalanay was an exceptional talent, his power was strong. It must have been true, for as strong a Kintay as Sharak had been, he had been unable to black me out, to bring me fully over the edge as was normally required for the opening to be done correctly. Talalanay's **Shemusk** was over just the same, though Sharak felt he shouldn't be fully compensated for his work._

_Quishnalay simply laughed and explained to Sharek that no one would ever be able to black Talalanay out. It was the Receiver codes, you see. I could no more be blacked out then as I can be now._

_Talalanay had full use of the Kundatesh early and Quishnalay knew Talalanay might even grow to possess the Morrowhiem himself someday. Such a powerful 'gram could come to have this gift without the breaking if he was handled well enough, in fact abuse might even kill this ability if he were to grow to hate enough. Sharak strongly suggested that Talalanay should be educated so that his potential would not go to waste. _

_Quishnalay agreed and the boy was taken to a special school. He learned the arts of love and the ways of the Kundatesh. He could soothe and use this magic to increase the pleasure of others and ease their pain if they suffered. He learned to read the shines, to understand how they could be used to improve his ability to serve clients and please his Master. Oh, what a happy boy was Talalanay. His joy was the giving of pleasure to others. Nothing fulfilled him more than the laughter of a client or the shaking thunder of his Master's heartbeat._

_Ah, yes. Quishnalay. _

_So taken was he with his talented young progeny that it was only a matter of time before the Master used him himself for his own pleasure. Quishnalay loved his Courtesans, but he rarely slept with them, it invited the fragile young things to form a bond with him that was later hard to break. They didn't like to be passed on as was inevitable with us. Quishnalay broke his own rules and lay with Talalanay._

_Talalanay was overjoyed of course. His heart bloomed with love and joy. He knew no greater happiness. It was only later that he would learn that Quishnalay was still a true **Chuckfet,** cruel and heartless, the worst one of them all._

Remy put his laptop aside, rubbing his eyes. He wasn't one to read for long and he simply wasn't used to this many words pouring in. He glanced at the couch and saw Molly had crashed out, her book on her chest. The sight of her there, looking so pretty and fragile, took his breath away for a moment. Times like this made him wonder why he did the stupid things he did, why he would ever risk doing anything to lose her.

_T'ink I'm done fo' de night_, he thought to himself and shut his computer down. He got up and went to his wife, gently nuzzling her until she smiled and cracked an eye at him. "See someone couldn't wait fo' de sandman," he teased gently.

Molly laughed and let him coax her to her feet. They shuffled off to bed, curling up around each other like the natural lovers they were. Molly dropped off quick, having been mostly there already, but Remy's mind still mulled over some of what he'd read.

**Shemusk**. Was this something real or something Aiden only thought he knew? If it were a real thing, why hadn't Trishnar mentioned it? Perhaps he thought Remy already knew. There were things Trishnar had said that led Remy to think the Dognan King thought Gambit knew more than he had. At the time, Gambit had used that to lure Trishnar into revealing as much about the Game as possible. Besides, they had both been dealing with mature 'grams at the time, **Shemusk** seemed to be a thing that only affected newly made 'grams.

Gambit drifted off to sleep, the Dreamer's thoughts still in his head. He dreamt of Morrowhiem, of lovely clouds of glitter and love, only he was sharing them with Molly and the glitter was coming from himself. They were shimmering together and he couldn't stop from shaking at the magic of it. Sometime during this dream, the fantasy became reality and Molly was loving him. He'd been moaning in his sleep, aroused beyond his ability to keep quiet. She'd woken up and was taking gleeful advantage of him, something he wasn't about to fight, not in his half asleep, half awake state. They made love and fell quiet, both of them sleeping more soundly than before.

Remy woke the next morning, sprawled over their large bed, claiming it for himself. He was the last to rise and could hog it up all he wanted. He could smell fresh coffee and cinnamon rolls, his favorite breakfast. The smell of it made him a bit homesick, he missed the large communal breakfasts they had all shared back at the quad, something that was missing now. Perhaps he wasn't the only one missing that. Maybe he could do something to change that, to bring Aiden and Kimble back into the fold now that they had made up.

He could hear his lovely ladies outside his door, Angel's high pitched voice was chirping around the breakfast table as she helped Molly get ready. She was laughing and making jokes, her vibrations of happiness strong enough for him to feel from where he was. _She kinda chipper dis mornin'._

**_/ So was her daddy last night,_** Shi'ow-ri reminded him with her soft whisper.

Remy snickered softly. Funny how that was. When Kimble was down, Angel was down. Now that Kimble had unloaded a boatload of stress, so Angel was feeling better as well. There could never be any doubt of the bond they shared, they didn't even have to be in the same room for it to be shared. Remy, ever the optimist, was hopeful now that the relationship between father and daughter could be rebuilt. Now, if only Jael would only grant them the time.


	6. Chapter 6

(Six)

The subject of Remy's thoughts leaned in the doorway of the Cloud Jumper's loading bay, making sure he was well out of view. Jael was observing Simone, his newest acquisition, something that had to be done with a large degree of stealth.

Jael knew he had better things to do than to tempt fate with this Siskan. Xavier still had to be dealt with. Jael had arrived back in the Arizona desert and while Xavier's exact location was still elusive, Jael was doing his best to plan for some kind of offensive. He was training his men, stockpiling weapons and gathering supplies for an extended siege. Jael did know one thing for certain -- he was still determined to back up his threats. Xavier would hand over Kimble and whatever other Siskans he possessed willingly, even if Jael had destroy the world to make it happen. Xavier would pay. Meanwhile, while all these various plans were falling into place, Jael was spared a few minutes here and there to spy on Simone as best he could.

Simone remained in the cage Jael had constructed for him, he had proven to be far too violent to ever be let out. He had kept up his hysterical ferocity, going spastic anytime anyone approached the bars. The only one he remotely tolerated was Steve, the bioproducer who fed him his balls of plasma twice a day. Even then Steve was readily dismissed afterwards, no words or bonding passed between them.

Simone was a puzzle Jael was determined to solve.

Star's attempts at communicating with this strange Rogue had been in vain. Obeying her Master's wishes, she had tried again and again to get Simone to respond to her in some positive way, tempting him with food and music. It was a waste of time. He reacted more violently to her than anyone else, especially if she tried to use the Kundatesh as a bridge between them, something inexplicable. That was the greatest mystery, why the one thing that connected all of these Lushna-esk 'grams together would be the trigger for his worst of rampages. He would damage himself to the point of unconsciousness to get at her, howling and frothing until he choked on his own spit. Star was horrified.

Still, she had gone to great lengths to persuade her Master that Simone was indeed powerful in some valuable way, his shine was sparkling bright, more brilliant than her own. Jael knew about the shines, he had an alpha on his team who saw them as well and he backed up Star's claim. What was frustrating was getting Simone to reveal what that great power was.

During the times Simone was unconscious, Jael had cameras placed in and around the cell. He was hoping that if left alone long enough, Simone would relax enough to display his special talent on his own. Jael reviewed those tapes every day but so far Simone was keeping his secrets. Not that Jael didn't learn anything about him. It was increasingly clear that Simone was a Siskan who had spent long periods of time completely alone. He was happy to be left to himself and found ways to make himself happy. Though, in this regard, something odd and notable had come up. Jael had lived with Siskans a long time, he knew they could be broken and that they needed to be entertained, that their appetite for sex was enormous. Such horny little bastards, each and every one. If a Siskan didn't work with clients within a certain period of time, they made do with themselves.

Simone did not.

These past few days, longer than most Siskans could go without getting off at least once, Simone spent his time curled up in the corners of his cage, usually as far away from the door as possible. He refused all food, never eating a bite. What he was given he threw back at his captors as if in spite, cackling prideful, arrogant laughter at his mess. He accepted no clothes, acting as though he did not even understand what they were for. He shredded up what was offered and played with the rags, tossing them about and later making a nest out of them, curing up in them to sleep. Simone entertained himself. He sometimes rocked himself in the corner, his arms wrapped around his large black shoulders while crooning some sort of gravelly nonsense noise to break the silence. He did not, however, touch himself once. No jerking off, no humping the floor, nothing. Jael didn't get it.

Back in the loading bay, Simone laughed softly, shuffling in his cage.

Jael broke away from his thoughts and leaned in deeper for a better look. Simone was sitting on the floor, his back to the door. A moth had somehow drifted in from the outside and was now fluttering about the cage. Simone was captivated by his tiny visitor, his silver eyes tracked it with exquisite precision. He lunged at the moth suddenly, coming up on his knees while being ever so careful not to crush it, and cupped the fragile creature in a cage of his ebony hands.

_He moves fast_, Jael thought to himself, impressed. The movements had been swift and tightly controlled, not the thing a feral junky 'gram would make.

Simone sat back down and brought his cupped hands to his lips. He grumbled something inside them, words so badly mangled, Jael didn't have a prayer of making them out. He didn't even know if it had been Siskan or not. This Rogue's voice had a deep guttural quality to it, like someone who had been shouting for far too long, and the sounds were lost, mere grunts for all Jael knew. Simone next opened his hands slowly, revealing the calm and placid moth simply sitting there, unharmed yet charmed somehow into staying still long enough to be properly observed by a strange yet curious Siskan. Simone laughed again, pleased with himself, his own wings twitching with excitement.

Jael scowled. Was this some kind of power? An ability to control insects? That was stupid and of no value. _Of course it could be empathy_, he thought in consolation. That simply confirmed Simone's Lushna-esk status, not that he was any more or less powerful than any of his other acquisitions.

Simone was a Rogue! He should be so much more than this! He had wings yet made no attempts to fly, he simply flapped them about when he attacked the bars, making a great wind and noise to intimidate, but not to actually take off. He should be making shields and swords or spreading the sparkling Morrowhiem everywhere. He didn't even try to heal himself when he was damaged, he would lay in a heap, gasping for air until Steve came and charged him back up again.

Jael really didn't have time to wait around for Simone to reveal himself, he was under a great deal of pressure. Just moments ago, he and Razel had exchanged some heated words, the teleporter was concerned that Jael was delaying far too long in his search for Xavier's exact location. Surely they now had the means to lure the X-men out of hiding. Jael was taking his time to be sure, but he had his reasons.

Jael had the Cloud Jumper in position here at Arizona and had ordered two of his three other ships -- The Mayfair and The Hellion -- off to war. One was headed towards the Xavier Mansion in Westchester, the other towards Xavier's secondary but no less valuable Massachusetts site in Boston. Jael had a little surprise in store for the little X-men.

Both ships carried his best alphas and perhaps that was Razel's real concern. Razel knew that sooner or later all three vessels would end up here together again. The larger the group, the harder Razel would have to compete for Jael's attention amongst all these men that had gathered. If Jael would just get on with this, they could have the X-men taken care of on their own, with no need for the rest of the crew.

Jael chuckled softly to himself. Razel had nothing to fear, there was no one else he trusted more and -- except for some kind of blatant mutiny or treason of course -- Razel would never be replaced as his Second in Command. Jael knew he would need the skills of all of his crew to pull this off, the main reason he was consolidating his forces. He wasn't about to let Razel's insecurities get in the way of his plans. Better to go for the overkill than come up short. He would destroy as many of Charles' resources away from here to punish the man and force him to surrender Kimble. Jael knew there was no way Xavier could clean out so many sites completely, some things would be left behind for him to steal or kill to make his point. Any losses would weaken Xavier and a little intimidation was always helpful. Afterwards, Jael would bring all of his ships here. He would send out some spies to try and pin down exactly where the X-men were and try to get a better view of theirs weaknesses and strengths, something he should have done in Westchester long ago, but had always been too impatient to set up properly.

Razel saw the reasoning in his Master's plans, he just argued that any delay was going to give Xavier's people time to grow as well. It was no secret that new recruits were pouring in every day and Razel wasn't confident that attacking any of the Xavier satellite sites would stop this.

Jael could care less. Those recruits were more starving refugees than real fighters. What threat were they against his well seasoned crew? An army needed to be trained and his own had earned their stripes in the trenches of this world, spreading such fine unrest in the streets of the great United States. Jael's gangs of mutant thugs had been largely responsible for most of the anti-mutant sentiments fueling the war ongoing right outside Xavier's door.

Jael was going to win, he would do whatever it took to see this done. Everything he had worked for depended on it.

-------------------

Remy spent the morning getting through his chores as quickly as possible. He wanted to get back to Aiden's diary right away. He had read only half of what Seth had sent the first time and the young Siskan had sent him even more files just after he had woken up.

Remy's first order of the day was to make his checks on all of his charges. Kimble had passed the night quietly and had used his morning furlough to head right back to Aiden's. They had gone up to sun together, but only for a few minutes. They had wasted no time in returning to Aiden's tiny apartment, no doubt for another round of play. Remy had found Kimble back in the Lab, only moments after his return from Aiden's apartment, his eyes heavy from Kundatesh and his grin wide and happy. Kimble promised that he would spend the evening with his daughter, eating at Remy's as usual. Gambit left it alone, satisfied for the moment that Kimble was recovering.

Gambit peeked into the Lab where Seth worked and saw the young pilot still tip tapping away at his computer. Seth had been given permission to build his new craft, but it wasn't scheduled to start for a couple more days. They were waiting on the last of the building materials. For now Seth was killing time, working on Aiden's book and Remy wasn't about to interrupt him. Kimble and even Aiden had been given permission to work on the Dragon site, someone finally seeing reason in keeping all of the Siskans in one place where they could be watched. Logan himself was in charge of the security there and was already forming his teams, getting the area ready for the construction.

Remy went next to Aiden's, he was still responsible for charging Babette's power cubes. He found the place cleaner than ususal, Kimble's handiwork, probably. Aiden was drunk but in a decent mood. Kimble had just left and the Dreamer was all smiles. He made pleasant small talk, making no attempts to pester Remy or complain. He didn't mention his diary though he knew it had been passed on to others. Gambit said nothing, wanting to finish the text before asking Aiden about any of it. He accepted Aiden's peaceful chatter and went about his business.

Babette was in better spirits, too, Remy could see. As bizarre as the situation was, Gambit couldn't really complain. It seemed her brothers had come up with a better cure for her depression than anyone else here. She was sitting on the couch, happily playing something on a Playstation2 Remy had provided earlier. Her shine was bluer than it had been though some small corner of grey remained, something that would probably stay with her always. She had suffered too great a loss to fully recover. Remy charged her cubes, gave her a kiss and left, eager to get back to Aiden's book.

He returned to his own apartment and wasted no time in getting back to where he had left off. The Dreamer was talking about Siskan life, something Remy desperately wanted to know more about. This next file was dated two days after the first, the first day Aiden had been moved into the apartment.

_The blue Mark of the Receiver was ours and our **Shemusk** well over as I enter the next phase of my tale._

_Talalanay spent a long time with Quishnalay, learning the ways of the Kundatesh, but even now I don't remember all of our kin, we didn't mingle long. I did get to know my brother Mishnar some and we fought from day one. He was cruel even then, his teasing meant to hurt and injure me. Knowing now that he was broken at that time doesn't stop the sting. I don't remember Babette, though I am certain she was there. We are all brothers and sisters and I will forever think of us that way. Most of us were sold off quickly to private buyers, but Talalanay, my first self, was allowed to remain. His memories are my memories because he was first._

_What can I say about Mishnar? My memory of him is not pleasant, but it is important. Mishnar was a Rogue, something we -- the collective parts of Talalanay -- were to learn more about later. He wasn't the first Rogue Talalanay met though. No, you were. Kimble._

Again Remy was forced to pause. How was this possible? Aiden never gave him any sign that he'd known of Kimble from the beginning. Even at Trishnar's he'd said nothing, nor had he shown any sign of that here. It did explain some of Aiden's eagerness to know Kimble well.

Secrets are troublesome things, they breed distrust. No one knew this better than this thief, they had gotten him into trouble all his life. He was resentful at first of what Aiden had withheld, but now he realized the Dreamer had not intended to withhold forever. This book had been generated to be shared with Kimble when the Dreamer felt the time had come. Remy knew Kimble well enough to know that the pilot would have passed this along to him in time.

_Talalanay had always been precocious and inquisitive, a trait we both share, he and I. I won't say it hasn't gotten me into trouble more than once because I'm sure you'd recognize that as an outright lie. Quishnalay's home was quite large and had many doors through which Talalanay was not allowed. It didn't keep Talalanay from trying. _

_One day Talalanay followed the Master, playing his secret game, and saw the man disappear through a new door, one hidden in the Master's great office. Talalanay saw how this secret door was operated and of course could not resist. Once he thought enough time had passed, he tried the door himself and found that it would open for him as well. He was too nervous to go through it at first, but more curious than any cat counting on its nine lives, the thought of it preyed on poor Talalanay's mind. Finally giving in to temptation, he followed his Master once again, this time not stopping at the threshold._

_The secret door opened onto a long hallway with a great many doors, too great a temptation for this would be cat to resist._

_Through the door Talalanay went, moving as quietly as he could manage.. He tried the_ _doors along the hallway as he passed, but they were all locked. Well, all except the very last and this one not quite latched and left slightly ajar. Talalanay crept through, smiling as he found himself in a room filled with toys. Brilliant colors from numerous paintings filled his eyes and bright open windows let in streaming light. Large cabinets filled with bright clothes were open, inviting a game of dress up, something all Siskans enjoyed. This room had clearly been made to entertain curious and playful Courtesans._

_There was another door to the back leading to yet another location, but Talalanay wasn't focusing on that, he was looking at the room's single occupant. In the middle of his strange and wonderful room, surrounded by stuffed animals, sat a young girl._

_Talalanay took a step forward, breathless, and came face to face with a pair of eyes as blue as his own._

"_Good morrow," she greeted, her eyes merry and happy to see him._

_Talalanay jumped back in surprise, but how could he be afraid? He saw before him a girl as young as he was himself, but one look at her told him she was a Courtesan, too. She was beautiful with her big blue eyes sparkling and long lovely raven hair down to her waist. Her shine was a deep rippling blue, brighter than any other 'gram Talalanay had seen before. She wore a soft leather dress, laced at the front, Court style and lovely, a perfect compliment to the innocent beauty before him. Her neck was collared with a tag as was his own, marking her as a Courtesan of Quishnalay's making. She was looking at him with such bright and playful curiosity that Talalanay found himself stammering in return, "G-good morrow."_

"_M name's Kimble. What's yers?" she asked, her face eager. In a room full of toys and Siskan treasures, this girl was more enthralled by his company than anything else here. She was lonely and sad in a way he had never seen before._

"_Talalanay. How come you talk so funny?" It was true that Talalanay had never heard such a strange accent, it wasn't like Sharek's. More than that, he was compelled to keep her interest, her shine was growing ever more blue by the second. She wanted him there._

_Kimble laughed, but there was a look of such sadness in her eyes. "Cuz I'm special. Look, I gots the Purple."_

_Talalanay didn't understand, but then she stood up and loosened the leather strings of her dress, opening the front for him to see. Blazing across her tiny little torso was a bright purple Mark, the first one of its like Talalanay had ever seen. He had his own Mark, but not so bright and certainly not that color. He'd known of the four colors -- the blue, the red, the green, and the brown --- and thought that was all there was. Now he was confronted with something special and new. Just the fact that she had a Mark the same as he did meant they were somehow connected. He couldn't help but reach out to touch it. "It's so pretty."_

"_Ain't you gots one, too?"_

"_Yeah, but mine's Blue," he replied, opening his own shirt to display his Mark._

_Kimble laughed, a bright tinkling sound that sent shivers of happiness right through him. "Well, what do ya knows about that? Yer likes me. What's yer title?"_

"_Receiver, but I don't know what it means. What's yours?"_

"_Facilitator, but I don't have one clue what it means either."_

Remy stopped here, unable to suppress a shiver at reading Kimble's catchphrase. _Well, what do ya knows about that?_ It was Kimble's favorite expression of discovery, and one he hadn't heard in some time. Really, what was there left for Kimble to discover when he spent so much time confined? Remy was discovering, though. At last, he had Kimble's Title. Somehow knowing it wasn't all that helpful. Facilitator? What did that mean?

_Talalanay couldn't help himself but like this strange new friend. He smiled at her. "Why are you back here by yourself? Can you come out and play with the rest of us?"_

_Kimble looked at him sadly. "The Master don't ever lets us out."_

"_Us? Is there more of you back here?"_

"_Yeah, there's six of us. Well, there useta be. Don' really knows why, but Simone is gone. He wuz so small and scared alla the time. Maybe he's somewhere's better than here."_

"_You don't like it here? The Master is nice to us."_

_Kimble smiled her strange sad smile. "I likes it that he's nice to ya. Yer nice."_

_Talalanay stood in wonder as she came forward then and lightly brushed her lips with his own. It was the most perfect kiss Talalanay had ever had._

_You must believe me Kimble, that I did not immediately recognize your name when Remy first spoke of you to my Master. You have to understand, I am eighty years old or more. These first memories were buried under so many troublesome and ugly things. It has taken more of an effort than you could know for me to dig them out. It wasn't until Remy sent me a photograph of you that I fully realized who you were. That picture spoke to me, whispering, "Don't you remember me?"_

_Destiny is a hard thing to escape. If you had asked Talalanay if he believed that he'd just met the one he would love forever, he would not have believed it. But me? The Dreamer? I know just about everything long before it ever happens. How could I not believe it? From the moment I saw your face reflected back to me from that photograph, your purple Mark blazing, I knew we were destined to meet again. I just don't know exactly how it's all going to come about, of what will come from our union, but I know this for a fact, you will be mine. Even now I shake in anticipation. The dreams of you are the only ones that don't scare me half to death. _

Remy paused again, smiling. All this talk of destiny made him realize that the shy little Dreamer was just as melodramatic as any of his kin. He was also a romantic, it seemed. Remy knew many things, but could one kiss have made such a lasting impact on a life as turbulent as Aiden's had been? The Dreamer seemed to think so. Whatever the case, it pleased Remy to read it. These simple words gave him such hope for him and Kimble, he could only pray their reconciliation would last. Still smiling, Remy continued to read.

_Talalanay could not forget that first kiss. It had burned a bright hot place into his --- **our** --- soul and would never leave us. _

"_Come sees me again," Kimble asked, her eyes wet with happy tears. "Please!"_

_Talalanay could sense her happiness, but also her deep loneliness. "All right."_

_There was thumping noise beyond the rear door and Kimble's eyes widened in alarm. "The Master's comin'! If he sees ya, he'll punish me again!"_

_Talalanay hesitated. He was confident that with his own good standing in Quishnalay's eyes that he had nothing to fear, but there was pure terror in Kimble's shine. It disturbed Talalanay to see it, knowing that somehow Quishnalay was the cause of it. He didn't know why Kimble feared the Master so, but didn't want to add to her distress by staying._

_Talalanay fled, going back the way he had come, making sure to leave no trace of himself behind. He was successful and when he saw his Master later, Quishnalay didn't question him at all about it. Talalanay was determined to keep his promise, he would sneak back in to see Kimble again. Perhaps later he would get her to tell him why she should fear Quishnalay so._

_It was a while before he succeeded and when he did, he was in for an unpleasant surprise._

_Talalanay snuck inside that secret chamber, dismayed when he found it empty. He rediscovered the rear door and tried it. It was unlocked and he went through, holding his breath for fear of being caught. The door led into a whole other apartment he hadn't been aware existed. It wasn't so nice as Kimble's room or his own, it was more like a workshop. There were no lavish furnishings or large playrooms. There were no Love Rooms here, no clients waiting to be served. As he moved deeper in, he heard screaming, sounds of someone in pain. He wasn't sure who it was, but just the fact that he'd seen Kimble alone back here made him instantly afraid that it was her._

_Spurred on by a hero's need to save her, Talalanay grew bolder, going farther and deeper into the apartment, and soon getting lost as he traveled through door after door. The sounds of pain had devolved into pitiful weeping, they were growing weaker. The sound of it and the vibrations of misery were strong here in this new place, causing him great pain. Still, Talalanay kept moving, he had to free his new friend from whatever torment she was being forced to bear. _

_He went a few paces more but was suddenly halted by the presence of another child, this one a stranger. "Good morrow," Talalanay greeted, his voice shaking with fear._

_The newcomer stood there fearlessly, obviously used to these sounds and vibrations and not the least bit disturbed by them. He had come out of a dusty corner, unseen by Talalanay who had been preoccupied by looking for someone else. This child was as small as Kimble had been, dressed in the skin of a six year old boy. He wore a collar about his neck as Kimble had, but the name was obscured and Talalanay couldn't make it out. His hair was red and rumpled, and his eyes were all bloodshot whites and brown. He wore only a torn pair of leather pants and a bright yellow Mark blazed across his torso. He was scuffed and dirty, looking like he had rolled around in the dirt._

"_Who is it, Mishnar? What does it wants?" the boy questioned to no one there, his bloodshot tawny eyes looking Talalanay over with disgust as if he was a piece of garbage. His voice was as broken as Kimble's had been, but instead of sadness in his face there was only madness and insanity. _

"_It's a sneaker. It breaks in where it's not wanted!" he replied to himself, the voice changing enough to be someone else's. It was low and deep, scratchy from screaming. The boy's eyes had changed as well, becoming savage and cruel. "Let's kills it, Flaylee! Kills it and eats it!"_

_At first Talalanay thought that this might be some kind of game. He loved games as did all 'grams, and perhaps this was just a trick. It was only when the boy launched himself at him, his shine swirling with evil intent, that Talalanay realized to his horror that this child in front of him was hopelessly mad and broken in some terrible way. It was something he would become all too familiar with himself, but that was years away. He had no defense or understanding of this now. Talalanay turned and fled with a shriek, his earlier bravado forgotten._

_Mishnar/ Flaylee gave chase, cackling madly as he followed, creating quite a ruckus and breaking things as he pursued his prey. Talalanay was hopelessly lost, he'd gone too far inside this new area to recall the exit. He scrambled and crashed into things, blinded by his terror. _

_Moments later Quishnalay appeared, alerted by their racket. His face was flushed with anger at being interrupted from whatever it was he'd been doing. His skin was hot and he smelled oddly, reeking of melted plastic and burnt things. Quishnalay snarled curses as he grabbed Mishnar away from Talalanay and held him easily by the hair and one scrawny arm. "Mishnar! Who let you out!" Quishnalay howled in anger, ripping him away from Talalanay with ease._

_Long ago, Talalanay had speculated that Quishnalay gave them the skins of children to_ _better identify them. He saw now that that choice had been all about control. It was nothing for the Master to grasp Mishnar and subdue him. Quishnalay twisted Mishnar with a cruel yank and smashed one mighty fist into the boy's face, the first sign of violence toward a Courtesan that Talalanay had ever seen. _

_Mishnar howled in pain, collapsing as a stream of different voices poured out of him in a jumbled mess. Gel blood poured from his face in a gush, grey and terrifying. He broke down into deep guttural sobs, his shine all pain and injury now as he lay in a tortured heap._

_The violence he witnessed was more than Talalanay could take. Never in his life had he seen such action taken against another like himself. He fainted, overcome by horror. Darkness took him and he saw no more._

To be continued in Ambuscade.


End file.
